


Cold As Ice

by Cheylouwho



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Body Horror, Frankenstein AU thing, M/M, Memory Loss, Tweek is practically dead for .5 seconds, mild gore (mostly just mentions of blood)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-04 16:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 42,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12774846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheylouwho/pseuds/Cheylouwho
Summary: It's moving day for 19 year old Craig Tucker- Dr. Mephesto's passing has left him with little more than devastation, an empty laboratory and a future full of uncertain opportunity. Maybe things can start looking towards the better; he's got his boyfriend, his guinea pigs and an entire building full of science at his disposal. Maybe he'll be okay.It’s amazing how quickly everything can be ripped from you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is a fic i've been kicking around for like 3 years. It started as an RP, then it became a comic for all of 2 months, and now it's finally coming together. Please enjoy!

_October 17th_

_Today is going to be a really great day, I think. Maybe even the best day of my life._

Craig Tucker tapped the pen against his lip in a mix of anxiety and excitement, eyes drifting from the blank paper of his notebook up towards the window beside him. Outside it was lightly snowing, cold fogging up the glass. He could just make out children playing in the snow just past his yard, throwing snowballs and screaming so loud he could hear them inside the comfort of his warm childhood home.

_Today is the big day, after all. I know it’s really weird to be packing all of my shit up at 19 and just heading out the door to start my own life, but I think everything will be okay. Mom’s proud of me.  So that’s all that matters. I just have a few more things to take over to the lab and moving is complete. I guess I’ve just been stalling through. The second everything is in the box is the second everything is going to change._

_I fucking hate change is all._

Other than the bed, the desk, and a few personal items, the room had been completely cleared. All that was left was a box of random items on the floor, his journal, and a picture frame beside him. His eyes again left the paper to instead rest on the image, lost in thought. There, smiling back at him through fingerprint-smudged glass was him and Tweek Tweak, his boyfriend.

It was their senior prom when his mother had taken the picture, insisting it was for “memories sake”. Craig never liked being the subject of photos- if anything he’d rather take them- but he’d allowed her to snap a photo of the two of them beside the staircase. Tweek’s tux was too big, and Craig still had his stupid braces on, but it was a nice picture, and he insisted that if his mom was going to frame it, he wanted it for himself.

_At least I’ll have Tweek with me. It won’t be completely different._

Craig slowly closed the journal before dropping it un-ceremonially into the box on the floor, trying to keep his emotions at bay. The last thing was that picture frame and he was out. Tweek said Craig could meet him at his house and they’d walk down to Mephesto’s laboratory together to celebrate the move of the last of his belongings.

He grasped the frame with both hands before sighing, delicately placing it into the box.

And now it was done.

Craig slid off his chair, pushing it in and grabbing his coat off the back. He was already dressed and ready to go. In fact, his mom had come upstairs three times in the last hour asking if he was heading out yet. He’d joked for her not to be so eager to get rid of him, but he knew she was just concerned. He was only 19. He was still her baby. She wanted him to be happy.

She could tell he wasn’t quite happy.

Craig picked up the box and walked down the stairs, leaving the door to his bedroom open. He’d been lucky that his love of science had caught Mephesto’s attention during that science fair in junior year. Everything had finally started looking up for him when he was offered an apprenticeship. The lab had practically been his second home for the last three years of his life, learning all about genetic engineering and having all the tools at his disposal. He found a father figure in the old man. Sure Mephesto had teased him for focusing on his (literal) pet project of guinea pig genetics, but he’d always supported him with a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder.

Mephesto had also apparently supported him enough to put him in his will as the owner of the lab before his untimely death.

Craig sighed, grimacing at the thought. It had been hard on everyone when he’d passed. The lab had been closed down for the last 6 months, all its former workers having moved on. Now it was just Craig and a big empty building to call his own. He’d get to experiment to his hearts content. How many 19 year olds already owned a house? Had a career? Not many.

Tweek had told him that he was lucky.

He set the box on the ground by the door, calling out into the house that he was leaving. Tricia had already said at least 20 goodbyes that morning, and his father…well, to put it simply, he hadn’t seen him since he was 14. That left just his mother to send him off.

“Hey, wait, don’t go yet,” she yelled from down the hall, nearly scrambling from the kitchen with a covered plate of something in her hands.

“I’m not,” he groaned playfully, rolling his eyes. “What’s that?”

“A housewarming gift,” she stated, a smile on her face. Craig was sure she was going to cry if he didn’t make this quick. “You know, for you and Tweek.”

“ _Mooooom_ ,” he groaned again as she pulled him close with one arm, holding tightly. “It’s not like he’s moving in with me, Jesus… He’s just helping me get the place together.” He begrudgingly let her hold him for a moment before wiggling away.

“I know, I know, but…well, he’s been there so much for you the last few months, I thought it would be nice to thank him anyway.” She carefully deposited whatever it was on top of what was already in Craig’s box of things, rearranging a few items so it wouldn’t spill. “Nice and warm… good for a cold day.”

“Thanks,” Craig said softly. He could still see the picture of him and Tweek staring back at him from inside the box, tucked neatly beside the plate. “I bet he’ll like them. He likes baked stuff.”

Laura gave another one of her anxious smiles, reaching out to grab his shoulders, just staring at him for a moment before shaking her head, laughing. “You’ve grown up so much, baby, I can’t believe you’re…heading out into the world by yourself now.”

“ _MOOOOOOM,_ ” Craig groaned for the millionth time. “I’m not going away forever. I’ll be here to visit, promise!” He allowed himself one more hug before his mother was yelling his sister’s name. It took no time at all for Tricia to come sprinting down the stairs, her cheek slamming into her brother’s chest. They were only a few years apart, but she’d nearly caught up to Craig in height now.

“Don’t forget about me, fucker,” she muttered, head only pressing firmer against him.

“I didn’t forget you the last billion times you hugged me, did I, Rubes?” Craig replied, pushing her off just enough to ruffle her bright red hair. She really did take after their dad; ginger and tall and freckles littering her face. She had their mom’s eyes, her smile. Craig was different. He came from Peru, from some parents with dark skin and blue eyes and dark hair and dimples. Sometimes his adoration for his little sister was mixed with a sense of jealousy; maybe if he’d looked more like his father, he wouldn’t have been so quick to walk out and cheat on his mother. It would be like books and TV; no, don’t tear the family apart, think of the children. But that would negate how much of an angel Tricia, or Ruby has he’d fondly nicknamed her, was. He didn’t want to think of her not being enough to be the child to think of, so he let the uncomfortable feeling go.

“You didn’t,” she admitted, giving him an awkward shove. “Promise I can come visit later?”

“Tomorrow. Once I get everything cleaned up, okay?” Craig was grabbing for his box of things now. His mother was going to start crying soon. Tricia would probably start crying after, and then he’d probably lose control of himself and cry too. “I’ve just… gotta get going, I texted Tweek I was heading over to his house like, an hour ago.” He shifted so the box was under one arm so he could grab the door, shuttering as the cold hit his face.

“Call us when you get there!” Laura called as he walked out. Tricia waved from the doorway his entire journey down the driveway until he finally turned around to see her. He laughed. God, he wished he could take her with him and keep her safe. But his mom needed her, and Tricia needed his mom. Besides, she wasn’t interested in science or guinea pigs or any of that. It wouldn’t exactly make her happy the same way it did Craig.

It didn’t take long for him to walk the few blocks to the Tweak home, boots trudging through snow and nearly slipping on the ice that covered the sidewalk. It was colder than usual for October, but he didn’t exactly mind. The lab would be warm, and he’d have his guinea pigs and Tweek to keep him company.

Speaking of Tweek, he was already coming down the porch to meet him.

“Were you watching for me or something?” Craig teased as he approached. “And is that _my_ scarf?”

“First of all,” Tweek uttered from somewhere within the oversized red scarf, “you said you were coming over by eleven, and it is currently twelve-oh-eight.” As soon as he was beside Craig he pulled down the scarf just enough for him to press a kiss to his cheek. “And secondly, yes, it is.”

“Stealing my shit again?” Craig teased as they began to walk, Tweek’s hands naturally grasping his free arm just above the elbow.

“Nah, I was gonna give it back. It’s just so damn cold today I wanna wear it until we get to the lab.” Tweek grinned at him with the smile that Craig adored so much; his eyes always scrunched up so small and he’d bite his tongue. It was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.

“Fair enough. I’d rather you hold onto it than get frostbite, honey.” It wasn’t until Tweek’s grip on his arm grew tighter that he realized he was trembling.

“You sure you don’t need it?”

Craig shook his head, adjusting his hold on the box. “No it’s… it’s not the cold.”

“Nerves?”

“Yeah.” Craig’s eyes darted the other direction. Despite his best attempts, another of Tweek’s soft cheek kisses pulled him back.

“Are you using the notebook?” Tweek asked softly, voice full of concern.

The first book Tweek had gotten him was when he was 14, shortly after his parent’s divorce. He’d gotten into three fights at school and had two weeks of detention. His mom had been so pissed at him and he felt so lost he had found himself crying in the back of Tweak Coffee Bros after he’d attempted to run away. Tweek had given him a little red notebook and a pen, and told him to write down his feelings; that his therapist had him do it, and it helped. When Mephesto passed it had torn him apart. For the second time in his life, Craig had lost a father figure. When he became distant and agitated, Tweek had gotten him a new one, this time green. Write your feelings, he had said. It was the very same notebook sitting in his cardboard box.

“Every day,” Craig assured him.

“This morning?”

“I said every day, didn’t I?”

Tweek smiled, moving oddly. Craig wasn’t sure if he had slipped or if he had twitched. He’d gotten better over the years, but things weren’t perfect.

He loved him all the same, though.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Tweek told him, leaning over so his head was pressed to Craig’s shoulder. “I’m really proud of you, you know? Everything’s going to be just fine. We’ll get all this stuff over to the lab and we can say hi to the babies.” Tweek had referred to Craig’s experimental guinea pigs as his children ever since he’d walked in on Craig cooing at them like infants. Perhaps he wasn’t too far off. Many of them Craig had raised himself with his breeding program. They followed him around like ducklings when they were allowed to roam.

“Yeah,” Craig said, unable to help smiling. “Oh—before I forget, mom made these. She said it’s for us, but I’m pretty sure she mostly made them for you.” He quickly looked into the box, pulling out the covered plate and shoving it at his boyfriend. “Here, I don’t even know what they are.”

Tweek giggled, pushing up the tinfoil just enough to take a glance. “Cupcakes. She knows me too well.” He covered them back up again and put the plate back in the box. “We’ll save them for later. Have ourselves a little wel-come par-ty!” He broke up the syllables playfully, shimmying his shoulders.

God, Craig couldn’t believe him sometimes. He didn’t know how he could go from a shaking, anxious, screaming mess to being so…whatever this was. “Shhhh,” he said, but he wished Tweek would never stop.

Tweek only stuck out his tongue, pulling the scarf closer to his pale, freckled face. “Oh! Hold on, we gotta stop off at the coffee shop real fast, okay?”

“The shop?” Craig looked at him curiously. “Why?”

“No reason, just… I need to get something from there. A present.”

Craig shrugged his shoulders, trying to hide his excitement. Tweek was too sweet for him. A present? All he’d brought him was cupcakes, and he hadn’t even made them himself. He let Tweek lead the way, walking through the street a few more blocks until they reached downtown. The shop wasn’t too far away from the lab, so Craig didn’t mind the pit stop.

“Come on, come inside,” Tweek said eagerly, grabbing Craig’s arm and pulling him in behind him. The bell above the door jingled as they entered, the familiar smell of coffee hitting his nose. It was cozy inside. Familiar.

“Oh, hi Craig!” a feminine voice called from the counter. Tweek’s mother was waving to him.

“Hi,” he said back, smiling sweetly. Tweek let go of his arm and went running off towards the back room, leaving Craig alone with her. “

“Today’s the big day, huh?” she asked calmly, wiping down the counter. Her voice always reminded Craig of something warm and soft, like a blanket. Maybe if he were like Richard Tweak, he’d be able to come up with a fancier metaphor. “Tweek’s been talking about it all week, you know.”

“He has?” Craig asked, surprised. He set his box down on the nearest empty table, careful not to disturb the cupcakes.

“He’s excited for you,” she laughed. “And worried, I think, but he won’t admit it out loud.”

“If I were him, I’d be worried too,” Craig admitted. Just as he spoke, Tweek came bursting from the back room, his father following close behind with a bag full of fresh coffee grounds.

“I got it!” Tweek said, practically bouncing up and down. He shoved the shoddily wrapped present into Craig’s arms. It was blue paper printed with red polka dots, a bow slapped off-center at the top.

“What’s this?” Craig asked, baffled but pleasantly surprised.

“If you want to know you have to _open it,_ dumbass.”

Craig rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t say no to Tweek. With a small breath he set to opening the gift, pulling the paper aside.

“Well?” Tweek asked, hands pressed tightly together, “what do you think?”

Craig just stared at what was in his hands, a huge grin across his face. There within the wrapping was a blue, velvet-bound notebook. In gold lettering across the front was his name. He traced his fingers along it, unable to help reading it out loud. “ _Doctor Craig Tucker: Mephesto Laboratories_. Tweek, you shouldn’t have!”

“Aw, come on,” he laughed, moving closer beside him. “I got it made special for you. You know what they say; this is like turning over a new leaf for you. I thought a fresh notebook would be nice.”

“It’s wonderful,” Craig said, kissing him quickly before putting the notebook into his box beside his old one. “I’ll use it every day, promise.”

Tweek only smiled back, helping place the box back into Craig’s arms. “Well, we should probably get going now, _Doctor._ ”

Craig shoved him playfully, but took the box anyway, waving goodbye to his boyfriend’s parents before they headed out the door, the bell jingling behind him. “You’re too sweet,” he uttered, pausing to kiss him again.

_Today is going to be a really great day, I think. Maybe even the best day of my life._

The words from his journal echoed in his brain as he looked at Tweek. Things were looking up. He had the lab and the guinea pigs and his boyfriend. Maybe things could be okay. Maybe, just like his father, he could move on from Mephesto and feel okay again.

Lost in thought, the next few seconds seemed to move in slow motion.

Craig didn’t hear the sound of skidding tires when he turned away from Tweek. Their hands had met briefly as they began to walk forward, near the edge of the sidewalk. Below their feet was a patch of ice, which Craig has also been negligent to notice until his foot hit it, sending him flailing for Tweek’s arm to grasp for balance.

Unlike Craig, Tweek had already noticed the oversized truck in the road sliding out of control.

As Craig stumbled towards the street in an attempt to balance himself, the blond grabbed his arm, pushing him the opposite direction. The force sent him stumbling the other way, right into the vehicle’s path. He hit the ground and rolled awkwardly, trying to scramble out of the way.

  _Today is going to be a really great day, I think. Maybe even the best day of my life._

It’s amazing how quickly everything can be ripped from you.

Craig didn’t register it was his own voice screaming as he watched his boyfriend’s body collide with the front of the truck, unable to help staring at the look of pure fear on Tweek’s face. He didn’t know where his box had gone- somewhere in his fright he had dropped it. All he knew was that his hands were pressed against his mouth as he watched his body go flying towards Tweak Bros Coffee’s large glass window, shattering it as he flew through. Now everyone was screaming, and Craig was frozen in fear as he saw Tweek collapsed on the floor in the middle of his parent’s shop.

In that moment, his logical brain went wild. Nothing was moving. He couldn’t breathe. If he stood still, Tweek would surely die. If he called the ambulance, who knew if they’d get there in time? They’d probably have to drive him all the way down to Denver, and he didn’t know if he could even survive that long.

Flashbacks of Mephesto echoed through Craig’s mind as he felt his vision go white with shock. He remembered the time when he was ten, when he and the other boys were playing super heroes and they’d gone to Mephesto for help. He could remember all those experiments, the living dead, the modified creatures. He remembered first coming to the lab, seeing Mephesto quietly laboring over his projects. He’d never admit it, but he badly wanted to bring his son back. He’d shared with Craig his discoveries on the resurrection and preservation of life. Everything he learned, everything Mephesto had taught him… it all came back to him.

The only way Tweek was going to live was if Craig were to save him _himself._

Unable to think clearly, Craig stumbled forward, throwing open the door to the coffee shop despite the people gathering around. He was sure someone was calling for help, but he ignored them all, shoving them aside. Tweek wasn’t exactly a light young man, but adrenaline and fear fueled Craig’s body enough to lift him easily in his arms.

Tweek’s mom was screaming his name.  He couldn’t hear her. All he could hear was the pounding in his chest as he went running towards the door again. In a split second of madness, his eyes focused on the ground in front of him. The truck driver was getting out, people were surrounding him, trying to stop him.

On the ground was the contents of his box. The cupcakes had spilled everywhere, his belongings strewn in a messy pile. He stooped down just enough to grab the blue notebook and the shattered picture frame.

Tweek shuddered in his arms, coughing blood onto Craig’s jacket.

Fuck.

There was no more time to stall- he needed to hurry up before it was too late. If this was all he could take with him, it was enough. He pushed past the gathering crowd as he held Tweek close to his chest, running as fast as he could towards the lab. He didn’t dare look at the state Tweek was in any closer; he was sure if he saw he would have second thoughts and turn around in favor of the ambulance.

Something told him that was the worst possible option.

He could see the lab now, the gate leading to the driveway wide open as he had left it the day before. He climbed the hill, feeling his energy wearing off. The reality of Tweek’s limp weight was finally hitting him, dragging him down. Craig reached the front door and practically kicked it open, running inside. It was dark and cold and exactly as he had left it. His heart raced as he looked around, trying to come up with a plan. Sure, he’d gotten Tweek here, but what _now?_

There was no time to stall. Craig carried him down the hallway towards the central laboratory, right into one of the rooms where Mephesto had once done his experiments. He dropped his boyfriend onto the metal table, flat on his back, before stepping back, staring at him.

Oh god, what had he done?

His head immediately went to the boy’s chest, listening. His heartbeat was slow, and he’d bled profusely from the impact. He was barely alive. In blind panic, Craig grabbed the nearest set of tools and his lab coat before pulling off the scarf and shirt and tossing them aside. Craig was sure there were broken bones… the top half of his left side looked shredded beyond repair. The same side of his face was terribly disfigured. He was barely breathing.

He could hear Mephesto’s voice in his ear, as if he were telling him what to do. His fingers had a mind of their own as he let himself lose control. Hours passed. He didn’t stop. He didn’t rest. He hardly breathed.

By the time he was done, it was as if he had watched the whole thing from a distance. It felt unreal.

Laying on the table before him was Tweek Tweak… or at least what was left of him.

Craig had managed to stabilize him with mix of organic and inorganic parts Mephesto had left behind in his studies. The left side of his face had been carefully repaired with cell replication and robotics, wild blonde hair framing it just like before. He’d wired his core with mechanical parts, blood pumping through his veins with the help of a substitute heart. He’d fixed the broken bones, the torn skin… he would be okay.

“He’s going to be okay.”

He just had to keep repeating it to himself, and it would be true. 

Craig carefully closed the panel on his chest, stepping back, wiping at his forehead. His eyes drifted to where he’d dropped Tweek’s clothing and the notebook and picture frame, trying to clear his mind. God, if people found out what he’d done, he was sure he’d be carted off to jail immediately. He’d saved Tweek, but at what price? He was selfish. He couldn’t bear to lose another person, and now he had to face what he created.

He turned back to Tweek’s body, staring at it with remorseful eyes. It was hardly him at all. That soft, angelic face was at least 50 percent metal now. It was like something out of a horror novel.

Craig cautiously stepped forward, taking the back of Tweek’s head in one hand as he lifted him just enough to expose his neck. With a deep breath and a delicate touch he pressed two fingers against the button he’d placed there, activating his creation.

Tweek immediately came back to life, jerking upright and letting out a strangled scream, his face twisting into a terrible imitation of the same fear he’d displayed when the truck had hit him.

“Tweek! Hey, hey,” Craig said quickly, gripping onto both his bare shoulders and trying to steady him. There was a strange humming from somewhere within Tweek’s chest, and he was uncannily warm to the touch, but Craig held onto him firmly. “Tweek, honey, it’s okay, you’re safe now…”

Tweek tried to jerk away, still letting out that terrible sound. It was his voice and not his voice all at once, and Craig hated it. “STOP! DON’T TOUCH ME!” he cried, managing to push him away and scramble towards the other end of the table. He cowered there for a moment, letting out wheezing breaths as they stared at each other.

“Calm down,” Craig urged him, holding his arms out in caution. Tweek fell silent, the only sound in the room being their breathing and the whirring of fans within his modified body. “Everything’s going to be okay… I fixed you, okay?”

Tweek just stared at him with a strange expression, mouth slightly agape.

“Come here, honey,” Craig whispered, moving forward, “I’ll-“

“Honey?”

He froze, staring at Tweek let out an odd sound. “What?”

Tweek just shook his head, confused. “E-excuse me, who…who are you?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo i wrote two chapters off the bat to get this baby rollin

“E-excuse me, who…who are you?”

The words echoed in Craig’s head as he stared Tweek down, mouth agape in confusion. Tweek looked equally as confused. This didn’t make any sense. Sure, he’d had to run some wiring through his brain to make things work, but that shouldn’t have…

Craig took a deep breath, shifting. “Tweek, who am I?” he asked.

The other boy stared at him, his good eye moving rapidly as he tried to take him in. “A-are…are you my…doctor?” he asked quietly, his hands clutched to his bare chest.  It was his best guess with what little environmental clues he had. “Where…where are my clothes? Where’s my mom?”

“Fuck,” Craig muttered, hand flying to his head, palm pressing firmly to his temple. “God fucking dammit…” No, this couldn’t be true at all. Tweek had to know. He had to! “Do you know who _you_ are?”

“I…” Tweek paused, shaking his head. “I…it’s far away.” He twitched awkwardly, unable to explain it any better. “I don’t like this. Where am I?”

“You’re Tweek Tweak,” Craig said, desperation in his voice. “This… this is Mephesto’s laboratory, remember? I’m Craig, your boyfriend. We were coming here because I was moving in. You were going to help me, remember?”

Tweek just stared blankly at him, trembling. “I don’t understand,” he said, the onset of panic in his voice. Craig could recognize it anywhere. “I don’t w-want…I don’t want to – _gaaaah_ —be here, I want to go home, I wanna go home _let me GO_!” With that he flung himself off the table, stumbling weakly like a newborn calf across the floor before collapsing again. He let out a shriek of panic as he yanked at his hair, flopping like a ragdoll against the tile.

“Tweek, Jesus!” Craig shouted, dropping to the floor beside him. “Calm down, come on!” Despite Tweek’s attempts to shove him away, the panic had seized his body too much to fully fight back. Craig could smell the smoke from his overworked mechanics as he screamed and screamed in his arms. All he could do was hold him tight to his chest and hope that maybe it would jog his memory somehow.

“I WANT TO GO HOME! LET ME GO!” Tweek screamed again, voice filled with pain. “WHY AM I HERE! WHY AM I HERE! LET ME GO!”

Tears welled up in Craig’s eyes. There was no way he could stop this. Tweek was going to scream himself to empty power if he didn’t calm down. He couldn’t even comfort him if he couldn’t remember who he was. “Tweek, honey, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, struggling to get him under control.

“STOOOOOP!” Tweek wailed again before Craig’s fingers collided with the power button just below the nape of his neck. Almost instantly he froze, eyes fluttering closed as he went limp.

“Jesus Christ,” Craig muttered, pulling him close to his chest, tears falling freely now. “God, I’m just... fucking…”

Fucking stupid for thinking this would even work.

He pressed a kiss to Tweek’s cheek before lifting him carefully, struggling with the weight. He managed to get him back onto the table, rolling him onto his side. The button at the back of his neck was blinking a soft orange color, almost urgent.

“Great job losing all your charge on a panic attack,” Craig muttered, the usual bite in his voice completely gone with exhaustion. His thumb rubbed at the spot just below it: a makeshift charging port until he could better perfect Tweek’s internal runnings. He grabbed his drill off the table and unplugged it from its cord, instead shoving the wiring into the port until he heard a beep.

There.

“Now you charge up,” he whispered, as if Tweek were listening. “And you think about what you’ve done and…and who you are, okay? I’ll be back soon. I just…need a minute.” He scooped up the picture frame and the notebook from the floor before wandering out of the room, shutting the door behind him and locking it. He didn’t need Tweek escaping, especially in this state. If someone saw him, he didn’t know what would happen to either of them.

With a deep breath, Craig walked back out of the main laboratory towards the hallway, his solitary pacing echoing through the empty halls. He remembered when the place was full of life, when Mephesto would walk with him and show him everyone’s experiments. He’d imagined he’d get to walk Tweek along these halls, show him everything. The rooms were big enough to dance in, and even if Craig hated it, Tweek loved to. He’d waltz them all over the huge building and then they’d kiss and…

“Fuck,” he muttered, the tears still flowing. He wiped at his face with his sleeve, exiting the lab and opening to the door to his new ‘home’. It had been Mephesto’s place before he passed, but now it belonged to him. It was an apartment of sorts within the lab, with a bedroom and a kitchen and a living area. Most of Craig’s boxes of belongings were stacked against the far wall, waiting to be unpacked. That was supposed to be for Tweek’s self-proclaimed “welcome party”, when they’d eat the cupcakes and get everything set up. Now, it was all on Craig.

He flopped against the couch, opening the little blue notebook Tweek had gotten him. “Doctor Craig _fucking_ Tucker,” he muttered, thumbing the empty pages.

In his head, Tweek’s voice spoke to him.

_“Write about it. It’ll make you feel better.”_

He quickly stood up, scrambling towards his stack of boxes for a pen in the one labeled “desk”. Yanking it out of the pile, he ripped open the tape with his nails and exposed its contents, digging until he found what he needed. He then rushed back to the couch, opening the book to its very first page.

_October 17 th _

_Today is a fucking terrible day, the worst day ever ever ever ever. I just fucking killed my boyfriend and somehow brought him back to life even more dead than when he started. He doesn’t even remember me. He doesn’t recognize my face or anything I told him. He screamed and threw a fit and nearly killed himself again by draining his battery. I swear if he’s gonna kill me before he kills himself because I’m so worried about him god im stupid stupid stupid fucking_

Craig stopped, letting out a shout of frustration before scribbling all over the page, nearly throwing the book across the room. The only thing that stopped him was that he didn’t want to ruin his precious gift, instead shutting it firmly and clutching it tightly to his chest for a moment as he breathed heavily. His eyes trailed to the picture frame sitting beside him, looking over the happy smile of the blonde boy his past self was holding hands with.

He needed a plan before he let himself go insane.

He slowly lowered the notebook back into his lap, opening it and tearing out the ruined page. Instead, he focused his energy into writing neatly, starting on the new first page. His notebook would become his strategy to not only help himself, but help the living dead he currently had locked in a laboratory room.

_October 17th_

_Patient Tweek Tweak (19, Male) has been fitted with robotics pertaining to facial features, breathing capacity and circulation as well as other vitals. Subject must remain charged with power in order to function. After awaking for the first time, Tweek could not remember who I or himself was, and went into a panic attack resulting in near termination of systems. Had to force shut-down to prevent overheating and loss of too much energy._

He took a deep breath, feeling more at ease.

_Once patient is fully charged, he will be activated either manually or naturally, depending on what comes first. Dr. Tucker (myself) will run tests on subject to test what he has managed to retain and explain situation._

Craig shut the notebook and set it on the couch, curling up beside it. He just needed to look at this from a different approach; things were easier if he was logical. He needed to stop letting his emotions override. If Tweek thought he was a doctor, he was going to be one. He was going to fix what he’d done.

He owed it to him.

With that, he drifted into a restless sleep, exhausted.

\--

_“Sir? Is this a bad time?”_

_Craig stood quietly in the doorway of the lab, a concerned look on his face as Mephesto stood over what he could only describe as a lifeless body. Sure he’d seen him experiment on odd things before, but this felt more unnatural than usual._

_“No, not at all,” Mephesto replied, glancing quickly over his shoulder. He let out a harsh cough before scooting to the side, allowing Craig to join him._

_“What’s this, sir?” Craig asked. With one look he knew what he was seeing, but he wanted to hear it from his mentor’s mouth before drawing assumptions._

_“Well, what does it look like to you?”_

_Craig’s eyes raked over the being on the table, trying to collect his words. The long dark hair, the purple clothing…“It looks like a kid, sir.” Craig paused, hoping his bluntness wouldn’t come off as rude. “It’s your child.”_

_“Terrence, yes,” Mephesto replied, laughing awkwardly. “I thought I was getting closer. I think I saw a glimmer of something in his eyes this time, but… he slipped away before I was finished.”_

_Craig bit his lip, unable to help extending an arm to let his fingertips brush against the child clone’s hair. Yes, he was really there. It was amazing how far Mephesto had come since the first time he’d seen his attempts at cloning. The initial results were terribly deformed, but now… this Terrence was awfully close to the real thing. “I thought you just wanted to give his corpse more asses.” This one was completely devoid of the additions._

_“It’s…more complicated than that,” Mephesto told him. “Of course, asses benefit science, and I want to continue to pursue their benefits, but…”_

_“But?” Craig blinked in confusion. Mephesto never turned down the opportunity to cover something in asses before calling it a success._

_“I’ll tell you a little secret, Craig,” Mephesto said, letting out another shuttering cough. “Science is all good and important, but when you love someone you’ve lost, you’ll do anything to get them back. And if I could do one thing with the tools we have here…I’d bring him back in an instant.”_

_Craig nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Sir, we should get you some rest. I’ll walk you back to your room and get someone to clean up in here, alright?”_

_Mephesto nodded, walking forward with the support of his cane and Craig’s arm. “You’re too kind, my boy. I only hope you never have to face the choices I have to face.”_

_\--_

Craig awoke several hours later, rubbing at his eyes and looking around the room desperately for a clock. His eyes settled on the microwave across the room in the small kitchen- 5:04 AM. He wasn’t sure when he’d even fallen asleep to judge how long he’d been out, but at least he knew it was morning. He carefully stood up off the couch, stretching his arms before walking over to his pile of boxes. He shifted them around until he found one labeled “closet”, opening it up and finding something fresh to wear. He quickly changed before donning his lab coat again. There was just enough food leftover in the fridge and the pantry to sustain himself until he could get into whatever was left of the GMO ass garden.

There was no way he was going back out into the world until he had answers.

He ate quickly before grabbing his blue notebook, the pen, and the picture out of the broken frame before wandering down the hallway back into the main lab. It was eerily quiet despite the presence of another man in the building, so either Tweek was still fast asleep or he was being unusually quiet. He only hoped he hadn’t removed his charging cable.

Craig made a quick stop at a storage closet for supplies before finishing his path towards the room he had locked Tweek inside the night before. He quietly opened the door the find him awake, sitting silently on the table, port still intact.

“Good morning,” Craig whispered softly, holding out what he had grabbed. It was a simple hospital gown. He would have shared his normal clothing, but he and Tweek were so different in body shape it would have never fit him properly.

Tweek didn’t say anything as he snatched the fabric from his hands, staring wearily up at him.

“A little cranky today, huh?” Craig muttered, stepping around behind him. The light on his neck was green now. “I see you didn’t take the cord out.”

“I was too afraid to touch it,” Tweek whispered, eyes trained on the floor. “I don’t know what that is or how you put it in or _why_ it’s in me but I want it out please, --ugh—please…” He shuttered, curling up smaller as Craig grabbed at the plug and pulled it out with a soft beep.

“Calm yourself down,” he whispered, resisting the urge to use his familiar pet name. At this point, he was sure it would upset him again. “You’re safe here, I promise.” He stepped back as Tweek pulled the hospital gown over his head, adjusting it on his body.

“I want to go home,” Tweek hissed, baring his teeth.

“I know, but… you need to listen to me, okay?” Craig stood a safe distance from him, trying his best to remain calm. It felt wrong to speak so formally to his boyfriend, but it was all he could do. “I can explain everything if you’d listen to me.”

“By all means, _doctor_ , explain then,” Tweek said back.

God, Craig had missed his sass.

“Alright… I know you’re having a hard time with memory right now, but I need you to trust me that everything I say is true.” Craig dared to sit on the opposite side of the table, hands in his lap. “Your name is Tweek Tweak. Your parents are Helen and Richard Tweak. They own the coffee shop in town.”

“I…I remember the shop,” Tweek said suddenly, interrupting. “It’s got big glass windows and mom stands behind the counter near the sweets.”

Craig nodded. “Well, that’s a good start. Do you remember anything else about them?”

“I remember mom’s face,” Tweek whispered, thinking hard. The fans in his chest whirled a mile a minute. “I don’t remember dad much.”

“That’s fine,” Craig said, continuing on. “I’m Craig. Craig Tucker.”

“Doctor Tucker, then?”

He bit his lip, trying not to wince. “Just…just Craig would be nice, but if you insist that makes you more comfortable, you can call me that.”

Tweek fell silent.

“I’m… I’m your boyfriend. Do you remember that?”

Tweek shook his head. “I don’t know you.”

Craig took a deep breath, pulling out the photo and placing it in Tweek’s lap. “Well, take a look at that.”

Tweek picked it up delicately between his fingers, squinting as he stared at it. “Um… that’s you,” he said quietly, pointing to Craig. “And that’s a boy.”

“Yes, but who is the boy?” Craig pressed, scooting closer.

Tweek lowered the picture, almost annoyed. “I don’t want to play guessing games with you, doctor _fucker._ ”

“Damn,” Craig muttered, rolling his eyes. “You may not remember much but your personality sure hasn’t changed.”

Tweek only stared back, the same expression on his face.

Craig took the photo back, pointing with his other finger. “Look, this is me and _you_ at our senior prom. You wore your dad’s stupid suit and a blue tie because you said it matched my eyes. I teased you about it all night but I secretly really loved it because I thought it was cute. I had my braces still and when I kissed you during the dance I cut your lip and you bitched me out and panicked all at once because you were afraid it was going to get infected and you’d die.” Craig couldn’t help but giggle thinking about it. “My mom took the picture before we left. See, you can kinda see Ruby at the top of the stairs trying to photobomb. Uh…that’s my sister, by the way. Her real name is Tricia but I call her Ruby because of her hair. She likes you a lot. She wants us to get married and have a billion kids, and every time I tell her we already have the guinea pigs, she just kicks me in the shin.”

Tweek just stared silently, eyes full of curiosity. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” Craig said, smiling softly.

“Then why do I …” Tweek trailed off, playing with his fingers. “Why don’t I know that?”

“We were going to live here together- well, I was going to ask you to live here with me,” Craig admitted. “Then you slipped on the ice outside your parent’s shop and got hit by a truck and…”

“Now I can’t remember?” Tweek asked, a look of shock on his face.

“Yeah,” Craig said. “Now you can’t remember anything.”

There was silence as they sat still for a moment, resisting eye contact. Tweek’s fans were humming louder now.

“What’s inside me?” he asked suddenly, looking up.

“Excuse me?”

“What did you do to me?” Tweek whispered, eyes wild.

Craig could feel the onset of another screaming fit.

“Tweek,” he said quickly, trying to calm him down before it began. “Listen, when you got hit by that truck the only thing I could do to save you was to—“

“TO RUIN ME!” Tweek screamed, hands against his chest. “Something is INSIDE ME!” The hands went from his chest to his neck to his face, nails digging into Craig’s creation. “Something is WRONG!”

“Tweek, fucking stop before you hurt yourself!” Craig shouted, accidentally raising his voice. His hands caught Tweek’s wrists, yanking them from his body. “Stop that, right now!”

“NO!” he shrieked, twitching wildly as he kicked his legs, trying to land a blow on his chest. “GET AWAY FROM ME YOU CREEP! WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!” Tweek was twisting wildly side to side, trying to escape. “I BET YOU’RE NOT EVEN A DOCTOR! I BET YOU’RE SOME CREEPY GUY WHO KIDNAPPED ME AND DRUGGED ME, OH GOD! OH GOD, I’M GONNA DIE!”

“Tweek, STOP!” Craig urged again, pressing him flat against the table. He could see the warning light flashing orange once more. “You’re ruining your battery!”

“GET IT OUT GET IT OUT GET IT OUT!” he shrieked anyway, completely ignoring him. Craig scrambled for the power cord he’d dropped on the floor, forcing Tweek onto his side before plugging it in. Suddenly there was a new wave of screaming accusations.

“Tweek, if you don’t have power, you really WILL fucking die,” Craig said firmly, trying to hold him in place. “I don’t want to shut you down again, do you understand?”

“I don’t fucking CARE!” Tweek screamed, pulling one wrist free. He twisted awkwardly so he could grab at the cord, yanking it out. He was twitching wildly now, unable to control himself. “Let me die then! LET ME DIE!”

With a remorseful sob, Craig slammed his fingers down against the button, watching as Tweek’s eyes closed and the room fell silent.

His body went limp against the table.

“Tweek…honey….” Craig whispered, carefully replacing the cord back into place. “You’re…”

He was so close, and yet so far. His chest ached as he sat quietly, trying to reason what had just happened. With a sigh, he picked up his notebook, flipping open to a new page.

_October 18th_

_Tweek has responded negatively to the presentation of information. Perhaps this is not the best route to go. Maybe instead of bringing up past things, it’s better to start fresh and make him comfortable before introducing memories._

His eyes trailed back to the boy sleeping quietly beside him, a sympathetic frown on his face. If only Mephesto were here.

Craig was sure he would have known what to do.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the kudos and the sweet comments <3

Craig sighed quietly, legs kicking absentmindedly as he sat beside Tweek. The light on his boyfriend’s neck was glowing faintly as he recharged, leaving the doctor alone with his thoughts until he woke again.

God did he hate being alone.

Craig shifted uncomfortably, fingers tapping on the front of his blue notebook. Information had not worked. Tweek wanted nothing to do with his old memories at this point; Craig felt like he was walking on eggshells just to get the boy to function. He’d had to force shutdown twice in a 24 hour period now. He needed a better approach before the public started banging on his door and he went insane.

Despite the aching feeling in his chest, Craig knew what was going to have to happen. If Tweek couldn’t remember… he’d have to practically start all over. Ten years of time together had been erased in seconds, and now that he’d played God just to keep the shell of him around, he was going to have to work with what he had. He flipped open his notebook, tapping his pen against his lip for a moment before scribbling out a note on the blank paper.

_Tweek- and yes, that’s YOU- I’ll be back soon. Don’t panic and do NOT take out the charging port. I’m serious. You do it again and_

He paused, biting his lip. God, this was like talking to a toddler. A toddler with no memory and trust issues at that.

_And I’ll shut you back down, okay? Just behave yourself._

_-Doctor Tucker_

It felt odd to sign his name so formally, but he left it be, ripping out the sheet and setting it on the table beside the sleeping boy. He decided to leave the prom photo nearby, just in case Tweek wanted to see it alone. “You stay here,” he said, patting his mass of blond fluff before walking out the door, locking it behind himself. Again, Tweek escaping would surely be detrimental at this point.

Craig made his way down the hallway, wheels turning in his head. If he wanted Tweek to get better, he’d need to earn his trust first before he started introducing information again. Then maybe he’d be more willing to listen, and subsequently remember.

 _Jeez, what a stretch._ Craig slapped a hand against the back of his neck, exhausted. He’d wandered towards the leftover GMO garden, pushing open the glass door. There wasn’t too much to work with other than a few beds of plants that had managed to survive without tending. Maybe if he could take care of them well enough, he could survive without the outside world if Tweek never came around.

He wondered what his mom was thinking, or what the Tweak’s were thinking. Were they worried? What did they think happened? Did they know Tweek was alive, that Craig hadn’t just nabbed his lifeless body and run off like some creep into the night?

“Pull it together, dumbass,” he muttered to himself, picking up an abandoned watering can off the ground. He filled it with water from a spout at the end of the room before tending to the plants, hoping it would be enough. “More asses mean more food which means less world hunger,” Craig uttered fondly, remembering Mephesto’s words. Sure, he’d thought he was crazy back then, but now it all made sense. “…and more food for me, too, I guess.” He’d just have to be sure to eat up what was already in the apartment before he tried anything from the garden.

Satisfied with his work, Craig turned back out of the room, making sure the door was sealed behind himself. He moved from room to room, making sure everything was in place. The labs were mostly untouched since Mephesto died; the workers had all cleaned up their spaces, leaving emptiness where there once was life. Craig remembered checking on their experiments. Now there was nothing around. Part of him regretted not picking a more important project of his own. Well, initial project. Tweek was now his new fixation.

Craig’s wandering (both mind and body) was more from boredom than curiosity, but he’d rather kill time in the lab than be in the room when Tweek woke up. The boy needed his space right now. Instead he opted for his notebook, pulling it from his coat pocket.

_October 18th_

_It’s hard to think it’s already been a day. It feels like years and yet no time at all. He’s asleep in that little room and I wish I could put him somewhere more comfortable. He just needs to cooperate with me… I guess it’s just a waiting game. And I can be patient. I can do this. I can let him take his time._

That was, until Craig couldn’t take the loneliness anymore.

He found himself back at the door where he’d started, quietly unlocking it and pushing it open. There on the table sat Tweek, arms crossed, eyes averted, power cord lying unplugged on the floor.

“You little shit,” Craig muttered, setting his notebook on the nearby counter and closing the door behind him.

Tweek said nothing, lip curling into a pout.

“What did I tell you not to do?”

Again, nothing but silence.

Craig marched around behind him, picking up the cord and plugging it back in, agitated. The note had been crumpled up and tossed on the floor as well in some sort of act of defiance. In his frustration, Craig almost didn’t notice that the photo had shifted positions.

Tweek had looked at it. That gave him a little hope.

“You don’t have to like me, okay?” Craig informed him. God, those words hurt. “You don’t have to like me right now. I know you’re pissed and confused and you want answers I can’t provide for you at the moment.”

Tweek glanced up, a scowl on his face. But he looked at him all the same, so Craig took it as progress.

“Now, that given, I’m still your _doctor,_ as you’ve proclaimed me to be, so I’m going to take care of you until we get this sorted out.”

Tweek still didn’t speak, but his eye contact maintained.

“I want you to trust me, okay?” Craig shifted positions so he could see him better, kneeling beside the table so their eyes were level. “I’m not going to push information until you tell me you’re ready. How’s that?”

Tweek just stared for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Good.” Craig nodded back, a small smile creeping onto his lips. This was going better than he’d expected; he was so sure by this point Tweek would have screamed at him. He stood up again, walking back towards the counter and grabbing his notebook, flipping open to a clean page.

“What are you doing?”

His attention diverted back to Tweek. “Excuse me?”

“Are you taking notes on me like… like I’m some sort of science experiment?” Tweek asked a bit louder, a look of humiliation and anger written all over his face.

“N-no, I’m…” Craig shut the book, shaking his head. “You—I mean… my _boyfriend_ gave me it as a present. It helps me feel calm when I write in it, okay? I’m not…” Okay, maybe he kind of was, but he wasn’t going to admit that. “Here, look.” He held it out towards him, fingers carefully clamping it closed. “Doctor Craig Tucker, see? Right here on the cover. _He_ got it for me as a moving day gift.”

Tweek just stared at it for a moment, taking in the sight. “Fine,” he said, expression softening. “Well, I’m glad _he_ thought so highly of you.”

Ouch. Craig grimaced, putting the book away. It was hard talking about Tweek—his Tweek—as if he wasn’t sitting in the room across from him. “Yeah. He loved me a lot.”

There was a pause.

“I want to leave the room,” Tweek said suddenly, eyes looking towards the door.

“Woah, woah,” Craig said, turning back to him. “Hold on there-”

“I want to leave and I want something to eat,” the boy demanded again, fingers gripping the edge of the table.

“First of all,” Craig said firmly, hands on his hips, “you don’t need to eat. I designed you so that all you need is power. You could in theory because that part of you was still intact, but it would take up simply too much of your battery that you keep wasting and _unplugging_ anyway, thank you very much.”

“I don’t care, I wanna eat something. Anything!” Tweek kicked his foot sharply, refusing to give in. Even with his memories gone, he was just as stubborn. When he wanted something, he never gave up.

Craig pressed his fingers against his temple. “Fine. I will get you something _small_ if you promise you’ll charge up while you eat. No more taking it out without permission, understand?”

Tweek smirked. “ _Aaaaaand,_ you’ll let me outta the room?”

Craig blinked a few times, assessing his options. Tweek being free to roam was a risk, especially if he had the balls to try and make an escape. But trust building was his goal, and if it meant a risk to gain it, he’d have to take it. “Fine. I’ll let you out, but I need to go do something first, okay? If you sit here and wait for me, and if I come back and find your cord untouched, I’ll let you out. Is that a deal?”

Tweek smiled the exact one Craig adored, when he scrunched his eyes and bit his tongue. “Deal.”

Craig took his notebook with him as he exited the room, again locking the door. If Tweek could comply with his simple request, perhaps it was a step in the right direction. “Baby steps are fine,” he said out loud, making his way back towards the apartment. “Baby steps are still steps.”

It really felt like two steps forward, one step back though.

Craig quickly looked around the room as he opened the door, trying to figure out what to do. He could probably bring Tweek here; it was the least frightening place in the building, and it was homey. Maybe it would bring some comfort, or jog some memories. He set his notebook on the couch before making his way back out the door, down the hall to where the security system controls were. He couldn’t risk Tweek’s escape, for both of their sakes. He watched from the security camera as the gate closed outside, the doors sealing themselves.

There.

Craig stepped back, taking a deep breath. No, that wasn’t the last thing he needed to do. He hurried back towards the apartment, throwing open the door. On the couch was an ugly throw blanket that had been left behind by its previous owner. He then went through his desk box for a second time until he found a bunch of thumbtacks. Carrying both into the bathroom, he set to work covering the mirror until his reflection was hidden from view.

There was no way he was going to let Tweek _see_ what he’d done to him. Mirrors were not allowed.

Satisfied, he hurried back towards the door to the lab room, unlocking it to find Tweek exactly where he’d left him. The cord was still plugged in, the boy’s hands folded neatly in his lap.

“I didn’t move,” he said simply, blinking his good eye. “Now… lemme out.”

“As you wish, your highness,” Craig muttered, rolling his eyes. He moved to the far wall and unplugged the charging cord before removing it from Tweek, coiling it around his arm for later. He then grabbed the photo off the table and offered the boy his arm. “Careful getting up, you haven’t exactly been mobile since I brought you here.”

“Oh, I have,” Tweek muttered, climbing off the table with ease. “I guess you didn’t hear me banging on the door and calling you a bitch, then.”

Craig laughed, amused. “Well, I’ll be damned. Not that I don’t expect that from you.” Tweek still held onto his arm anyway, the same way he always did, fingers digging into the skin just above his elbow. The familiar gesture was almost comforting. “There you go.”

Tweek looked at the floor, letting Craig lead the way out of the room. As soon as he was out he allowed himself to look up, taking in the sights.  “I know this place,” he said quietly. “Did I go here before, doctor?”

Craig nodded. “When we were little, yeah… and a few days ago, too. You were helping me carry boxes from my house into the apartment.” He kept his explanation brief as to not overwhelm him.

Tweek let out a beep in response, chest humming. “I see.”

Craig led him down the hall until they reached the door to the apartment, pushing it open. “There you go,” he said, letting him walk in independently.

Tweek took a few shaking steps as he looked around, feeling the soft carpet on his bare feet. Just the simple contrast from the lab room left him grinning. “It’s a house,” he said, almost childishly. “It’s a house.”

“Yeah. It’s our— _my_ house. But you can stay here too, if you want.” Craig bit his lip, trying not to jump the gun in his excitement. He could just see his journal entry now— _Tweek is making progress. He’s left the lab room and is in my apartment, walking around like normal._

Tweek ignored him, wandering around the room as he looked it over. “What’s this?” he asked, walking towards the pile of boxes against the wall. “Yours?”

“Mine, yeah,” Craig said, following behind him, hands tucked behind his back. “Those were for the welcome party.”

“Welcome party?”

Craig blinked a few times, almost forgetting. “Oh—right. Well, you see, yesterday you were so excited to help me unpack, you told me…uh…’scuse me for this…” He took a deep breath, trying to imitate Tweek’s shoulder wiggle. “A wel-come par-ty. Just like that.”

Tweek let out an odd giggle, tilting his head. “I did that?”

“Yeah, it was pretty cute. I don’t exactly do it justice.” Craig looked down in embarrassment, blushing red. Tweek turned the other way, continuing his exploration of the boxes. “You wanted to help me organize stuff and make the place look nice. We were gonna play that music you liked and eat the cupcakes mom made us.”

Tweek’s head flew up as he turned back to Craig, a strange gleam in his eyes. “Cupcakes?”

Craig’s eyes widened as he stared back. “…cupcakes,” he repeated slowly, trying to understand the significance.

“Cupcakes,” Tweek echoed again, expression shifting from wonder to confusion. He took a clumsy step backwards, a hand pressed against the altered side of his face. “Cupcakes…I like cupcakes,” he muttered, fingers tapping against the metal. “I like those.”

“You do,” Craig continued, still speaking slowly. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched Tweek in bewilderment. “You like cupcakes. You’re good at making them.”

Tweek took another step backwards, his eyes glazed with distant focus. Both hands were in his hair now, pulling absentmindedly in silence.

“Tweek?” Craig asked, afraid to move closer.

“Cupcakes to Korea,” Tweek muttered, squinting. “Cupcakes to Korea… I… make some cupcakes, honey.” His expression was dazed, lost somewhere far away.

“Tweek,” Craig repeated, daring to step closer.

Just like that, the trance was broken. Tweek’s head snapped upright again, the look in his eyes replaced with panic as he tripped over himself, falling backwards on the floor with a shout. Craig was beside him instantly, knees on the ground, arms pulling him close. “Hey, hey,” he cooed, trying not to frighten him. “I’ve got you!”

Tweek only let out a shudder, falling still.

“Are you okay?” Craig asked, petting at his hair, unable to help himself.

“Yeah,” Tweek muttered breathlessly, eyes closing as he breathed heavily. “It’s fine…I’m… doctor? Doctor?” Tweek’s hand gripped at Craig’s shirt in confusion.

“Yeah, it’s me, Doctor Tucker.”

Tweek nodded, letting out a strangled breath. “Okay... okay.”

“Can you stand up?”

Tweek didn’t say anything, eyes still closed tightly.

“Tweek?”

“I don’t want to,” Tweek whispered, rolling so his face was smushed against Craig’s chest. “Don’t move.”

Craig obliged, too confused to change positions even if he had wanted to. He just held the other boy in his arms until Tweek opened his eyes, sitting up again.

Craig watched him with even more confusion. “Tweek? You good?”

Tweek nodded, standing himself up and wandering back towards the boxes. “I was…I was looking at these,” he muttered, completely ignoring him. His hands grabbed for a box, ripping open the tape.

Craig stared for a moment more before standing up, pacing a circle around the other boy in confusion. Whatever he’d just witnessed a step in the right direction. He quickly grabbed his notebook from the couch, walking towards the bedroom and closing the door behind himself.

_October 18th_

_Tweek’s revealed something to me today that I don’t know if I fully understand. “Cupcakes” triggered something inside of him- it wasn’t like anything else before, like when I mentioned his parents or the coffee shop. He had this look in his eyes like he was seeing something. He was unresponsive until it was broken, and then he resumed what he was doing as if it never happened. But I know he remembered. There’s no way he didn’t, he said it himself. He knew the cupcakes. He knew the time when we were ten and he made all those cupcakes._

_Tweek Tweak is still somewhere in there._

_I can feel it._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering what Tweek looks like in this AU:
> 
> http://cheylouwho.tumblr.com/post/167724782041/so-uh-heres-my-roboboy-from-cold-as-ice-aka-my

Craig flopped backwards on the bed, reveling in his discovery. Tweek had _remembered._ Sure, it was brief, and he wasn’t all there when it happened, but he’d remembered. He was more thrilled than he’d been in the last few days, chest full of hope.

It was progress.

He carefully sat himself back up, staring at the open notebook on the other end of the bed. “Cupcakes, huh?” he muttered, amused. Of all the things to bring back such a strong memory, it was the damn cupcakes. He shut the book and climbed off the bed, poking his head out of the bedroom.

He’d only been gone for a few minutes, but Tweek’s exploration had already taken a messy turn. His belongings were strewn about the room, empty boxes overturned on the floor. “Jesus,” he muttered, walking towards the couch where Tweek was sitting, his rampage halted by his interest in a book. As soon as he heard Craig he perked up, slamming it shut and holding it close to his chest.

“Oh, hey,” Craig said softly, trying not to frighten him. “What are you doing there?” His eyes raked over the room, examining Tweek’s doing. Some things had been piled in organized chaos, while others lay this way and that on the floor. Pencils from the “desk” box were broken on the floor. A stack of printer paper was scattered nearby, mostly crumpled, somewhat scribbled on.

Tweek twisted the other direction, almost embarrassed. “Looking,” he said quietly, book still clutched tightly to his chest.

“Looking?” Craig invited himself to sit beside him, careful not to disturb a pile of shirts that had been laid against the armrest. “Which one you got there?” The book was too big to be a novel. “Photos?”

Tweek scowled for a moment before silently lowering it into his lap, flipping open the cover. It was from Craig’s senior year of high school, the first set of picture-sleeves full of photos of nice flowers and his guinea pig, Stripe the fourth. Tweek’s left hand awkwardly thumbed at the plastic, almost anxiously.

Craig frowned, unsure what he was doing. “Anything familiar?”

Tweek hummed, managing to grip the page between his thumb and index finger, flipping it over. The next page was more photos of Stripe, then some of Tricia. His fingers twitched, struggling to get hold of the next one. “It’s not working,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice.

“You’ve almost got it,” Craig encouraged anyway, carefully watching Tweek’s hand. “Use the other one?”

“No,” Tweek said stubbornly, instead opting to sliding his entire hand under the page and flipping it with his palm like a small child. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the photos of vaguely familiar young boys, all of them grinning and enjoying themselves. The last one on the page was of Tweek, smiling happily at the camera, flowers stuck in his hair.

“That one’s you again,” Craig said, pointing to it. “Do you remember that?”

Tweek refused to answer Craig’s question, content with staring at the image in silent curiosity. Again, his fingers were scrambling to grasp the page. His fans whirled faster as he grunted, eyebrows furrowing.

“Tweek,” Craig reminded him gently, “don’t get upset, now-”

Too late.

Tweek let out a high pitched screech, managing to grab the paper in his fist before ripping it from the album, throwing it the other direction, the book following suit as he flipped it off his lap onto the ground.

“Stop!” Craig said quickly, arms flying out to stop Tweek from doing any more damage, hands catching his wrists. “Jeez, what’s gotten into you!?”

Tweek only let out an unhappy groan in response, eyes squeezing shut. “I caaaaaaan’t do it...”

Craig’s expression softened, his grip releasing as he let his shoulders relax. Getting mad at him wouldn’t solve anything. “Hey…hey, you’re fine, okay? You’re doing great.” His voice lowered in volume, unconsciously switching to the tone Tweek responded best to. “You’re doing good, okay? I’m really proud of you, you’re trying _so_ hard. So, so, _so_ hard.” He closed his eyes, memories flooding back to him. Maybe…  “You’re capable of more than you think, okay?”

Tweek’s eyes opened, lip trembling as he struggled to hold back tears. “I…Doctor?”

Craig perked up, almost expecting another flashback. Instead, Tweek just stared at him for a moment before wiping at his eyes, falling quiet.

Craig’s couldn’t help his expression falling. His eyes drifted from the ripped photo album on the floor to the back of Tweek’s neck, watching the lights flicker a soft orange. “Dammit, you drain battery faster than I thought you would.” He stood up from the couch, walking across the room. “Come on, I promised you food. Let’s get you hooked into the wall and I’ll keep my promise.”

Tweek let out a shaking breath, nodding his head. “Yeah,” he said, voice wavering.

“And when that’s done, we can clean up your mess-”

“Welcome party,” Tweek interrupted.

Craig let out a sigh, lowering his head. “We can clean up the _welcome party.”_ Tweek was oddly set on that word despite being unable to remember what it meant in the first place.

“Yeah,” Tweek said again, forcing himself to his feet. He carefully stepped around the objects he’d laid on the floor, making his way towards the kitchen right behind Craig. There was a small wooden table near the pantry that Craig gestured to, so he sat.

“Now, remember what _you_ promised,” Craig reminded him, walking behind him. The cord he’d brought with him was plugged into the nearby wall, ready to go. He carefully inserted it into the charging port despite Tweek’s pouting expression. “Don’t look at me like that,” he scolded gently, “I told you that if you wanna put shit in your body, you need the power to process it.”

“I hate how it feels,” he complained. “I can feel it going _into_ me.”

Craig made a mental note of that, morbidly curious by what Tweek meant. Maybe when he was in a better mood, he’d prod for more. “I know, but you’re going to have to get used to it.” Craig stepped back from his handiwork, moving towards the pantry. There wasn’t much left for either of them, and he’d rather save it for himself, but he desperately wanted Tweek’s trust. “We’ve got…stale crackers and canned fruit.”

“Disgusting.”

“No time to be picky when you don’t actually have to eat,” Craig reminded him. “Pick your poison, or I’ll pick for you. And in that case, the answer will be _none_.” He turned just enough to see Tweek’s familiar pout increase, arms folded defiantly. They stared each other down for a moment before Tweek caved in.

“Gimmie the fuckin’ fruit,” he growled, charging cable clunking against his chair as he shifted.

Craig stifled a giggle, unable to help himself. He’d always found Tweek’s attitude oddly endearing. “Come on now, it’s not gonna be _that_ terrible.” He pulled it from the pantry and dug through some of the drawers until he found a can opener, popping the lid. “It’s pears. You like pears, right?”

Tweek didn’t say anything, still pouting.

“Fine, don’t talk to me.” Craig dumped a few onto a plate and carried to the table, setting it in front of him with a fork. “That’s all you’re getting, understand? Don’t ask for more.”

Tweek frowned, picking up the fork with his right hand before transferring it to his left, forcing his fingers to grip it.

“You can use your other hand, you know that?” Craig asked, raising his eyebrows. “You have two of them.”

“I like this hand,” Tweek commented softly, staring at the scarred flesh of his fingers before stabbing at the pears, lifting them to his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, the fans in his chest going almost too wild for comfort.

“Here, just…keep doing what you’re doing, don’t mind me,” Craig said curiously, stepping forward. He pressed the back of his hand against Tweek’s forehead, then his palm against his chest, just below the collarbone. Tweek jerked away at the sudden contact, but adjusted back into place, allowing him to do as he wished. “Your core’s heating up,” Craig said, blinking a few times. Notebook… he needed the notebook. “I’ll… be right back, don’t move.” He left Tweek alone at the table to eat his pears, fetching the blue book from the bedroom.

When he returned, the pears were gone, Tweek’s mouth stuffed.

Craig rolled his eyes, flipping open the notebook. “You better chew that carefully before you choke.” He thumbed the pages until he reached the next blank one, scribbling down his observations.

_Tweek has limited use of his left hand, which is frustrating him. There’s only so much I can do about that at this point. I don’t think he’d let me operate again, even if I had the know-how. When consuming food his body increased in temperature. He doesn’t like the way the cord feels when it’s plugged in, complaining of_

“So you’re a liar, huh?” Tweek interrupted, tapping his fork against the plate.

Craig looked up from his writing, blinking a few times. “What?”

“You said you weren’t taking notes.” Tweek licked at his lips, his free hand pressed against his stomach. His internal workings were making much more noise than usual, filling the otherwise silent room as they stared awkwardly at each other.

“…Yes,” Craig admitted, tucking the pen into the book and setting it on the table before sitting in the other empty chair. “But it’s not _all_ notes. Some of it is journaling.”

“You’re still a liar,” Tweek told him, voice full of hurt. He lifted the empty plate, holding it out. His eyes flashed devilishly. “ _More please.”_

Craig blew out the air in his lungs, eyes narrowing. “Hmm. I recall telling you that you get one serving. I don’t wanna overwork your system just because you want to pretend you don’t have a chunk of metal in your chest right now, got it?”

Tweek lowered the plate, expression falling back into a pout. “You’d give _him_ more.”

“Who?”

He looked the other direction, fingers clasping together in his lap. “Tweek.”

Craig tapped his fingers against the table, the other hand raking through his dark hair as he tried to think of what to say. “Well, first of all, that’s _you._ ”

Tweek glanced back, eyes widening. “The _other_ one.” Despite what Craig had told him, he stood up from the chair, not caring as it wobbled, nearly tipping over. He gripped the cord and yanked it out, marching towards the living room.

“Tweek, what the fuck!” Craig gasped, following him quickly. “What the hell did I tell you!?”

Tweek ignored him, stepping over the boxes to find where he’d thrown the photo album. He picked up the page he’d ripped out after a moment of scrambling, holding it out at Craig, the other hand pointing to the photo of himself. “This one,” he said frantically, breathing heavy. “This one.”

“That’s still _you_ ,” Craig argued, taking the image from him and holding it up. “This one is YOU. It’s Tweek. That’s _you._ We were having a picnic instead of going to class and you kept putting shit in my hair so I did it to you back and you looked so cute I took a picture.” His eyes were brimming with tears as he took a shaking breath. “You just smiled at me and I didn’t even need to pose you, you just…you looked perfect just how you were. I never had to pose you for anything, you…you just…”

Tweek stared at him in bewilderment, eyes searching frantically for a clue.

A tear slipped from Craig’s eye as his hand slapped against his cheek, red with embarrassment. God did he hate crying. Controlling himself was out of the question as soon as the tears started flowing. “Just…go plug yourself in, okay?” he muttered softly, sniffling. “You can eat the rest of the pears if you want. I don’t care.”

“Doctor,” Tweek practically begged, unsure what else to say.

Craig took the photo with him as he stormed off to the bedroom, swiping his notebook off the table. The door slammed loudly behind him, muffled crying barely carrying into the living room.

Tweek was alone.

His fans whirled loudly as the charging port began to beep, still flashing orange. Fingers grasped at the hem of his hospital gown as he tried to make sense of the situation, of the information he’d heard. The only thing he could fully grasp was the doctor’s request.

“Charge,” he muttered, walking back towards the table. It was all he had to work with. The cord lay on the ground where he’d thrown it, about a foot away from the table. He grasped it delicately with his right hand before plugging himself in with a soft beeping sound.

Tweek sat down in the chair, feeling the energy pulse through his body. His stomach felt full and empty all at once. At no point in his life had he ever been this aware of himself and the functions going on inside. It was as if the world had shifted and he was floating outside of it, struggling to get back in. His head ached. His vision blurred.

“Tweek is you,” he said out loud, fingers still playing with the gown. They trailed from the corners up to the collar, tugging at it anxiously. The gesture was familiar enough to be comforting as he stared at the wall in thought. The minutes ticked by on the microwave clock. Hum. Buzz. Cry. The noises went in one ear and out the other. “Tweek is you,” he repeated softly, over and over and over until he couldn’t recognize his own voice. “Tweek is _you_.”

He remembered his mother calling the name to him, her face hazy as he tried to recall her. He could barely make out the shadows of boys his age, asking if he was coming. He could hear Craig’s voice in his head, his whisper dripping with affection.

He may share a name and a body with the boy in the photo, but it just didn’t connect.

Tweek bit his lip as his hands moved from the collar to his face, fingers tracing his jaw on the unaltered side. Suddenly struck with incentive, he stood up from the chair, looking around. The crying in the other room had stopped.

“Tweek is you,” he told himself again, dragging the cord along behind him as he wandered towards the living room. When the cord tugged at the back of his neck he just pulled harder, letting it pop out of the kitchen wall. It trailed along like a tail as he moved towards a new outlet in the living room, plugging himself in until he heard the familiar beep.

Unsure what else to do, he began to tidy up his mess, scooping up piles of things and putting them back into boxes. Not the right boxes, nor very neatly, but Tweek was sure it would please Craig enough to put their argument behind them. As each item passed through his hands, he couldn’t help but feel a vague familiarity. A round plastic ball made for a small rodent. A fancy camera. A blue jacket. A model rocket ship.

Why did everything feel like it was just barely out of his grasp?

He let out a sigh, taking the jacket with him as he wandered back to the couch. He couldn’t help draping it over his shoulders as he sat, enveloped in a warm sense of safety and familiarity. It smelled like Doctor Tucker. It was oddly comforting.

He played with the zipper as his eyes focused on the photo book on the floor, the pages crumpled awkwardly in his tantrum. “Oh, nononono,” he found himself saying, sliding off the couch to his knees. He gingerly picked it up, carrying it with him to his seat. Just like the jacket, it offered a sense of security.

He took care to open it with his non-dominant hand, just like Craig had suggested. His fingers traced each photo, trying to memorize its contents. Familiar, familiar, familiar. Guinea pig. Red-haired girl. Nice boys. Doctor Tucker.

Tweek Tweak.

The boy in the photo was looking directly in the camera, soft lighting framing his angelic face. Freckles covered the bridge of his nose, hazel eyes squinting into tiny smile. Tweek’s fingers traced his face, the other hand reaching to his own jaw.

Same face.

Same boy.

He blinked a few times before shutting the book, holding it tight to his chest as if it were his lifeline. He took it with him as he leapt from the couch, bare feet carrying him swiftly through the apartment towards the bedroom. The cord was yanked from the wall again, but he didn’t care; he was too preoccupied with throwing open the door.

Craig jumped at his entrance, head jerking towards the doorway. His eyes were red, face blotchy from his crying. The notebook was open on the other end of the bed, the page of photos lying beside it.

“Teach me,” Tweek blurted, the two of them staring at each other in equal confusion.

Craig just blinked, rubbing at his cheek with his fist. “What?” Why was Tweek wearing his jacket? Why was he unplugged?

“Teach me,” Tweek repeated, practically throwing the photo book onto the bed as he climbed beside Craig. He flipped it open to the image he’d been looking at, pointing to it urgently, mouth falling open as he struggled to find the words he needed.

Craig moved closer, examining the photo. “That’s…that’s you,” he said bluntly, unsure what the other boy was looking for.

Tweek shook his head, tapping his index finger against it. “Nonononono,” he muttered. “Tell me about the picture.”

Craig pressed his lips together, eyebrows furrowing. “Um… that’s… there was this one time when I went to your house and I just had the camera on hand. I took a picture. There’s not much to it.”

Tweek’s eyes narrowed, fingers drumming against the page for a moment before flipping it over. He instead pointed to an image of the same blonde boy with boxing gloves flung over his shoulder. The smile on his face was replaced with something more stern, eyes focused. “This one.”

“You like boxing,” Craig told him, a bit more enthusiasm in his voice. “I went with you to practice so I could watch. You were always so serious about it, I thought it was hilarious. You didn’t even notice I snapped the photo until the flash went off.” His hand reached for Tweek’s, taking his wrist and directing the pointed finger down to the next image. “See, that’s you _after_ I took it.” The boy was now doubled over, hands against his cheeks, face full of laughter.

Tweek stared at the photo for a moment before again flipping the pages. “That. Tell me that.” His finger pressed against a new picture.

“That’s you and Stripe,” Craig said. He was smiling now, any evidence of his tears completely gone. “Stripe’s our baby, remember? You bought him for me when we were ten. I was really upset because the third Stripe died, so you saved up your allowance for three months just so you could get me a new one. I told you that you didn’t have to, but you told me he was mine anyway. I’d take him to your house all the time so we could play with him. He climbed in your hair and all over your bed and you’d panic because you thought he was going to fall.”

Tweek cracked a smile before turning the pages back to the first image. He stared at it, expression shifting to something Craig couldn’t quite read.

“Here,” he said, scooting closer. He cupped Tweek’s right hand with his own, lifting it to his face. Just as Tweek had done, he traced the image with his finger as he guided his hand along. “You’ve got a round jaw,” Craig whispered.

Tweek glanced at him with wonder before turning his attention back to the photo.

“And your ears. You got mad in elementary school because people said they were big, but I think they’re good just how they are.” He moved his hand upward. “Your hair is soft and all over the place. You used to let Tricia braid it sometimes.”

“Tricia,” Tweek muttered, closing his eyes.

“It’s a little different, but it’s still you.” Craig let his hand lower back down, focused on his expression. “Isn’t that right?”

Tweek nodded, head falling to the side until he rested against Craig’s shoulder. “There’s a lot of him in here.” He paused. “Me, I mean.”

“Yeah.” Craig practically held his breath at the physical contact, not wanting to disturb it. He carefully turned the page, looking over the photos. “You were my favorite thing to photograph.”

“You used the big camera?”

Craig glanced at him. “Did you find it?”

Tweek nodded. “During the welcome party.”

“Did you break it, captain destruction?” He couldn’t help but laugh at his own joke.

“No,” Tweek told him, too exhausted for his usual attitude. “I was careful, doctor, promise.”

“Did you eat the pears?”

“No, I left them alone.”

“Did you charge?”

Tweek’s eyes were drifting closed. “A little.”

They sat in silence, Tweek’s internal machinery keeping them both warm. Before Craig knew it, Tweek was fast asleep against him, power light glowing orange. “You goof,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Careful not to wake him up, he laid Tweek against the pillow, climbing off the bed to plug him into the wall. He let him keep the jacket on, almost enamored in the fact he’d put it on in the first place.

His eyes drifted back to the photo album, the page turned to a familiar scene. Craig was barely in the shot, taking an awkward selfie with his clunky, oversized camera. The lights from the football stadium shone down on them, Tweek sleeping quietly against his shoulder while wearing his jacket. He remembered that night; it was the homecoming game during their senior year, and Clyde had helped score the winning touchdown. Tweek had fallen asleep before he had the chance to even see it. Craig had thought it was hilarious, since it was his idea to go to the game in the first place.

It was a good memory.

Craig carefully closed the book, taking his journal with him as he lay down beside Tweek, their backs almost touching.

_October 18th_

_Tweek is fixated with the photo album. He stole my jacket too, but that’s okay. I think it’s just his way of coping with his memory issues. Between this and the cupcakes I think we’re almost a breakthrough. He wants the memories back, even if he can’t say it out loud. In fact, it’s given me an idea. Instead of just looking at them, maybe we can replicate them. Just like the cupcakes, we’ll jog his memory._

_If Tweek wants to remember, I’m going to make him remember._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope yall had a happy thanksgiving!

Craig blinked awake to a dark bedroom, the absence of windows leaving him without a clue of what time it was. He must have fallen asleep sometime after finishing his journal entry; the notebook was still lying open on the pillow beside him. There was an unusual feeling of warm pressure against his back, something wrapped around his middle holding him tightly. In a sleepy haze he attempted to roll over before realizing the blessing of a situation.

Just like when they were younger, Tweek was completely curled around him, cheek smushed against his back.

Craig let out a heavy breath, remaining as still as humanly possible. It was a familiarity the last few days had made him feel he would never experience again, and he wanted to enjoy every second. He settled back into place, hands sliding down to rest on top of the half-metal fingertips digging into his shirt. Despite the incredible warmth on his back, Tweek’s limbs were freezing. It didn’t matter though; those were _his_ fingers curled against Craig’s shirt- _alive fingers_ \- and that’s all he cared about.

Feeling unusually cheerful, Craig grabbed for his notebook, beginning to scribble down a few quick notes.

_October 19th (probably. I don’t know what time it actually is.)_

_I awoke this morning to find Tweek with me in bed. When he wakes up, he’s probably going to scream and run the other direction about sleeping with a “stranger” (what a fucking joke), but I’m going to enjoy this until that time comes. It’s easy to pretend that it’s just regular old Tweek behind me. I mean, I can’t see his face. If you ignore cold hands covered in metal, it’s hardly any different. Tweek usually has cold hands anyway. Remember when he used to catch you off guard and shove them up the back of your shirt at school just to piss you off?_

Craig shook his head. He was getting side tracked.

_Anyway. If I put his memories back in his head somehow, it’ll be like nothing happened at all. Cosmetic differences are minor. If he knows who he is (REALLY knows who he is, not whatever is going on now), I’m going to be hailed as a hero and all will be great._

_If operation restoration is a FAILURE, however, I’m pretty sure they’ll run me out of town with pitchforks and torches like in those shitty horror movies. I’ve created a Frankenstein, for fucks sake._

_Tweek’s not the monster, though. That title belongs to ME._

He sighed and shut the notebook, the pen tucked inside. What a disaster he’d created. The sleeping boy behind him did not deserve what he’d done to his body just to avoid losing another person in his life. “Am I a monster?” he asked himself quietly, staring at the wall and listening to the buzz of Tweek’s fans and other internal workings. Nobody answered back, so he assumed it was so. Suddenly guilty from the pleasure of having Tweek so close beside him, he forced himself up and out of the bed.

Craig stood at the edge for a moment, just staring at his sleeping boyfriend. His left side was against the mattress, arms and legs curled towards where Craig had been laying. Most of the ugly reconstruction was hidden with how he was sleeping. For a moment Craig really could pretend that this was just regular old Tweek. Maybe he had stayed the night after a long day of unpacking.  Maybe Tweek had brought sweets with him the day before, something from the shop. They’d eat it for breakfast and make jokes about how unhealthy they were being. Craig would recall the time when Tweek’s parents caught them kissing in the stock room when Tweek was supposed to be working, and they’d laugh and laugh. Tweek would do his sweet little smile. Craig would flash his dimples. Everything would be great.

The happy vision faded from his mind, leaving him with a bigger frown than before. No, this wasn’t that Tweek. This was the half-dead Tweek with a charger sticking out of the back of his neck, stuffed with metal. This was the Tweek that drained his battery with panic attacks and who called him Doctor Tucker instead of his first name.

“God do I need to fucking fix this,” Craig muttered, unplugging Tweek’s charging cord before dragging his feet out the door of the bedroom. The pears from the day before still sat on the counter, untouched. The living room was much cleaner than he had remembered it being. For once since they’d arrived at the lab, Tweek had actually listened to him.

The microwave clock read 4:46 AM.

Welp. Might as well start the day.

Craig grabbed a fork from the drawer, eating the leftover pears directly from the can. There wasn’t too much to work with in the kitchen at the moment, and he was not about to waste perfectly good food. He thought pears were gross, but that didn’t stop him from downing the whole can, including the preservative juices. God did he need to get to the store. He needed food, and he wanted to get some things for Tweek. Too bad everyone in town was probably waiting for him to step out the door to… send him to jail? Stone him to death? Craig didn’t have much of an imagination at times, but the possibilities were running a mile a minute.

Stupid disgusting pears were messing with his brain, probably.

He set the can back on the counter before rubbing at his eyes, checking the pantry again before a loud thud pulled his attention back towards the bedroom door. There stood Tweek in all his sleepy glory, hair a mess and good eye half-closed. He was still wearing Craig’s old jacket, and with the sparse covering of the hospital gown, he’d draped himself in the bedsheets in an attempt to warm up. He awkwardly leaned against the door, the hand not clutching the blankets running through his hair.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Craig said, raising his eyebrows.

Tweek just let out a whine, stumbling from the bedroom towards the couch, blankets dragging on the floor behind him. As he flopped onto the cushions, Craig realized that somewhere within the mass of blankets he had been carrying the photo album he’d left on the bed.

“That’s the first sleep you’ve had without a manual shut down,” Craig continued, following cautiously behind him in observation. Tweek just curled further into his mass of comfort, opening the book and scanning the pages with a sleepy expression. Craig just shook his head in amusement. “Tweek, are you even listening?”

“Yes, Doctor,” Tweek muttered, too exhausted for his usual sass. “I’m listening.” His fingers trailed the paper, favoring the right hand over his dominant left. He seemed enthralled in the images, gaze focused.

Craig took a deep breath, peering over the couch from behind him. If he wasn’t afraid of scaring Tweek, he would have loved to press a kiss to his shoulder. “What do you see?” he asked calmly.

Tweek hummed, tapping his index finger against a particular picture. The blonde boy was standing outside of the coffee shop, wrapped in a warm jacket and scarf. It was snowing. He was looking the other direction, unaware of the camera. “Home?” he asked, caution in his tone. “It makes me feel warm when I look at it.”

Craig couldn’t help letting out a chuckle, smiling. “That’s an interesting way to describe it. That’s the coffee shop your parents own. You work there with them.”

Tweek shifted in his blanket nest, fingers tapping odd patterns against the paper, lip caught between his teeth. “Coffee…baking?” he asked, teeth grinding together. “It’s close.”

Craig’s eyes lit up with excitement, reaching over him to grab at the book. He slid the picture out of the plastic sleeve. “Baking is absolutely correct,” he said, eyes darting towards the pantry. There wasn’t much, but he was sure he saw flour. With any luck… “Come here.”

Tweek looked up at him with wide eyes, setting down the photo album. “Why?”

“Just come here,” Craig said again, moving just enough so he could catch Tweek by the hand. The blankets were left behind on the couch as he pulled him towards the kitchen. They stopped in front of the pantry, side by side, staring it the contents.

“ _Why?_ ” Tweek asked again, even more confused as he stared up at the shelves.

“You love baking,” Craig told him, holding out the photo. “You used to bake most the treats your parents sold in the shop. _This_ shop, right here.” He tapped the photo. “You didn’t even need recipes. You had it memorized.”

Tweek’s gaze lingered on the photo before looking up at the pantry again. “Baking…” There was an odd look in his eyes again.

“Baking.” Craig looked at him, biting his lip in anxiety. “Well… go on, what do you think you can do with this stuff? Anything?”

Tweek’s hands moved into his hair, tugging in thought as his eyes darted between the sparse shelves. “Umm…umm…” His bare foot tapped against the ground, fingers sliding from his hair to his face, nails digging into the skin.

“Shh, calm down,” Craig whispered, placing a hand on shoulder. Surprisingly, Tweek didn’t pull away from his touch. “This isn’t a test. There’s no pressure.”

Tweek took a shaking breath, hands lowering. Without a word he stepped forward, tiptoeing to reach a few bags on a high shelf. He carried them in his arms to the counter, setting them down. He then ran to the fridge, throwing it open to find its contents completely cleared; he hardly hesitated as he slammed it shut, looking around again. Craig watched in wonder as he began tearing the kitchen cabinets apart, shoving things aside almost frantically.

“Tweek?”

Tweek didn’t respond, an odd look on his face as he pulled a container of salt and a handful of measuring spoons out of a cabinet. He practically threw them onto the counter, hands slamming against the tile. He stood still for a moment, nothing moving as he pressed his palms into the cold. “Salt, sugar, yeast…water…” Tweek muttered, lips barely moving. “Flour…”

“Tweek?” Craig repeated, afraid to step forward and ruin whatever had taken over him.

Tweek pressed his hands against his eyes, continuing to mutter, too quiet for Craig to understand. Suddenly he threw them down against the counter again, scrambling for items and his tools. A bowl was soon full of ingredients. Dough was thrown onto the counter and kneaded, the frantic energy leaving him with a face coated in flour. Craig just stood back, letting it happen.

“Turn the oven on,” Tweek was suddenly shouting, eyes too focused on his work to give Craig so much a glance. “375 degrees.” Craig jumped, scrambling to comply with his request. Soon the oven was heated and the dough was inside, Tweek kneeling beside the oven and watching it rise intently through the glass.

“You don’t have to stare at it,” Craig said, “it’ll bake just fine if you’re not looking.”

Tweek shot him a glance, eyes screaming death. “Shut up, I’m thinking.”

Craig pressed his lips tightly together as he moved closer beside the blonde, kneeling beside him. Tweek’s eyes were closed now, forehead pressed against the oven. Despite his wishes, Craig couldn’t help himself. “What are you doing?”

“Thinking,” Tweek repeated, emitting a strange beeping sound from somewhere in his chest. His nose twitched as he inhaled slowly, a smile creeping onto his lips. “It smells like home,” he whispered, eyes fluttering open.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He bit at his lip again as he stared into the oven, much calmer now that all it had to do was bake. “It always smelled like nice things. Baked things. And coffee! Lots of coffee.” He let out a huff. “Doctor?”

Craig was already standing up, knowing exactly what he was looking for. “Now, I would normally say no,” he admitted, fishing for the coffeemaker in one of the cabinets, “but this is a special occasion.” He hated feeding Tweek’s addiction, but he was going to have to make an exception. “Mephesto left behind a shitty bag of Foldgers. I hope it’ll do.”

“I’ll take anything at this point,” Tweek laughed, hands playing with his hair. “I wanted to make something else, but we don’t have any milk or eggs or even butter! So it’s just stupid, regular old bread.”

“I like bread,” Craig stated, plugging in the machine.

“Because you’re _boring_ ,” Tweek teased, throwing open the oven. The oven mitts were barely on his hands before he was pulling it out, much too excited. “Here you go, boring boy, your _boring_ bread.”

The machine was churning coffee beans now, filling the room with another pleasant smell. “Listen, if I could, I’d go buy you all that stuff and you could make me some cupcakes, honey,” Craig said, accidentally slipping a pet name. “But for now, I guess you can make bread, and more bread, and even more bread.”

“I can put shit _in_ the bread,” Tweek laughed. “You want shitty canned pears? I’ll shove in a whole can.”

“I fucking hate pears.”

“I know,” Tweek hummed, fingers poking at the crust.

Craig turned from the coffee maker, blinking a few times. “What?” He hadn’t remembered saying that out loud. “You know?”

“Yeah, I...” Tweek trailed off, eyes dropping down to the floor. “Um… I don’t know why, though.”

“That’s fine,” Craig chirped quickly, not wanting to lose the mood. “Here, coffee’s done.” He quickly pulled the mug from the machine, sliding close to Tweek before depositing it into his hand. “All for you.” Craig’s stomach was nearly against Tweek’s back, resisting the urge to put his arms around his middle.

“Personal space, doctor,” Tweek muttered, sipping on the coffee. He didn’t push him away or make a move to escape, however, leaving it be. “You wanna try it?”

“The coffee or the bread?”

“Either, I don’t care.”

“Both then, if you insist.” Craig grabbed for the bread, ripping off a chunk of the end and popping it into his mouth.

“Well?”

“Absolutely fucking amazing,” he muttered, mouth full. It tasted just like Tweek always made it. “I can’t believe this actually worked- you remembered it without a problem.”

“Well… I had to think really hard,” Tweek admitted. “And even then, I didn’t really think, you know? It just sort of happened. My hands kinda took over.”

“That’s what you always said,” Craig sighed, daring to let his cheek rest against the side of Tweek’s head. “You’ve always had a gift with this sort of stuff.” His eyes closed as he relaxed for a moment. “Jeez, I’m exhausted.”

“Coffee, doctor?” Tweek asked, raising the mug.

“Fuck yeah.” Craig took it from him, forcing himself to step back. He shouldn’t have been moving so fast, anyway. The last thing he wanted was for Tweek to freak out again. He took a few sips before setting it back on the counter, hand running through his hair. “Welp, I’d call this a success.” His eyes drifted to the photo that he’d left on the counter.

Tweek was silent for a moment, following his gaze. “I… doctor?”

“Yeah?”

He nibbled at his lip again, unsure what to say. “I know I don’t really remember these pictures. I like them and all, and I wish I could tell the stories like you do but… I like _this_ memory even better.” He smiled, turning just enough so he could look Craig in the eyes. “The one right now.”

Craig’s mouth fell open, unsure how to respond.

“If you took a picture, I could probably point at it in a photo album like you do and say… there’s me and doctor Tucker, baking bread and sharing coffee. Doctor Tucker didn’t like pears and I thought it smells like home.”

Craig wished he could take a photo. He had his camera, sure, but the last thing he wanted was for Tweek to see himself like this. “Yeah… but my camera is out of film.” He was a terrible liar, but Tweek bought it anyway.

“I’ll just put it in my head instead,” Tweek giggled. “Snap a picture with my eyes.”

“I don’t know how you come up with this stuff.” Craig ruffled his hair, stepping back. “You’ve got flour on your face, you wanna get cleaned up?”

“Oh, shit,” Tweek muttered, a hand slapping to his cheek. “Yeah, lemme just… I’ll go to the bathroom real fast.”

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck._

“Nah, nope,” Craig laughed nervously, a hand quickly grabbing Tweek by the arm before he could escape. “I mean… I’ll help you, lemme grab a napkin.”

“I gotta go to the bathroom anyway,” Tweek said, a worried look on his face. “Is something wrong?”

_Fuck x2 combo._

“Dammit, that’s what you get for eating fucking…” Craig muttered to himself, trying not to look too nervous. “Okay, just hurry up, okay? Also…um…” He bit his lip, eyes darting wildly. “There’s a blanket covering part of the wall. Don’t touch it.”

“Why?”

_FUCK HAS REACHED MAXIMUM CAPACITY._

“Because,” Craig said slowly, “because there’s a hole in the wall there that I haven’t repaired yet. If you pull back the sheet then it’ll be exposed and there’s…um… mold. In the wall. You don’t wanna get sick, do you?”

Tweek’s eyes widened, shaking his head wildly. “No sir!”

“Then don’t touch it.” Craig felt awful playing off his boyfriend’s anxiety, but it was for his own good. “Don’t stall too long in there or you’ll probably get poisoned or something.”

“JESUS!” Tweek shrieked, scrambling off as fast as he could. “I’ll be fast!”

As soon as he was gone, Craig let out a heavy sigh, hand against his chest. God was that a close one. As Tweek fumbled around in the bathroom, he made his way to the bedroom, scooping his notebook off the bed.

_October 19th_

_It’s so hard for me to act professional when Tweek’s being cute like this. He made me bread and I made him coffee and it’s just like old times. He let me get close to him and if I hadn’t any self-restraint, I probably would have kissed him and ruined everything. I just wish this could be easier. At least he seems happier now and not so mopey. I think we’re getting closer to remembering. I’m so, so sure we’ll get there before I even know it. For now, this strategy seems to be working well. I’ll find some more photos to draw from. If I can risk it, I’ll get him more baking materials from the store. I’m cautiously optimistic about this._

_Also, note to self: destroy the fucking mirror._


	6. Chapter 6

By the time nine o’clock rolled around, Tweek had baked two more loaves of bread.

Craig sat quietly in the living room, going through a box of his belongings. The snow outside was filling the room with a chill, so he’d wrapped himself up in the blankets Tweek had left there earlier that day. After everything that had happened, he finally had enough time to start formally unpacking. He didn’t mind that the apartment smelled like bread or the sounds of baking from the kitchen; if anything, he was glad Tweek had found a way to preoccupy himself. A busy Tweek was always happy Tweek. He’d never liked to be idle.

“Hey, I’m gonna be right back,” Craig called, standing up from the couch. Tweek’s head shot straight up with curiosity, charging cord slipping from his neck and clattering on the floor. He’d plugged himself into the kitchen wall to keep his battery up while he worked.

“Where?” he asked, hands unmoving as they rested on a lump of dough.

“Well, it’s been a while since I checked on the guinea pigs, so…” Craig trailed off, biting his lip. It was cold outside the blankets and he wished he had his jacket, but he didn’t dare take it from Tweek. He’d practically claimed it as his own now. Instead he searched the room for his discarded lab coat, throwing it on as Tweek watched him. “It’s not gonna be that long.” He tucked his notebook into the inner pocket, sure to keep it close by.

Tweek blinked slowly, a hand running through his messy hair. “I wanna see the babies,” he practically whispered.

Craig made a face, trying not to laugh. “You wanna see the babies, huh?” Tweek sure retained some of the most interesting memories. “I don’t know, are you going to behave yourself?”

“I’m not a child,” Tweek grumbled, leaving his bread behind to join Craig’s side.

“I didn’t say you were,” Craig replied calmly, letting Tweek take his arm like he always did. “I’m just saying that you need to be gentle with them if I let you.”

“Am I not gentle?”

Craig raised an eyebrow. “May I remind you, _captain destruction,_ of your temper the last few days? I’m being serious.” He reached for the door, opening it and stepping into the hallway. “Are you going to be gentle?”

“ _Yessssss,_ ” Tweek groaned, frustration tinting his voice.

“Then you may come,” Craig told him. They were already in the hallway now; he was going to bring him along anyway. Maybe there was something in the lab that could jog Tweek’s memory.

Tweek let out one of his little sounds, twitching awkwardly as his fingers dug into Craig’s arm. “I like guinea pigs,” he muttered, voice coming out as more of a squeak.

“I know you do.” Craig wished he had grabbed the photo album. “Do you remember Stripe? He’s our baby.”

“Baby,” Tweek echoed, eyes closing. He let Craig lead him down the hall as his head leaned towards the side, thinking. “Little brown baby.”

“You bet,” Craig laughed. God, he wished he could kiss him. “He’s brown with white patches. He’s in the room with the others, so you can hold him. _Gently._ ”

“I am gentle!” Tweek snapped, nails digging into Craig’s skin, making him jump. “I’m not a fucking _monster_ , okay? I’m not a monster like YOU, _okay?_ I didn’t put all this fucking shit in me, okay? That wasn’t me, that was…that was…” He stopped, expression full of fear.

They were standing motionless in the hallway now, Craig’s mouth wide open in disbelief. God, what had he done? Tweek’s forehead slammed against his forearm, unmoving. “Tweek?” he asked, trying to understand. “What do you mean by that?”

Tweek said nothing, refusing to look up.

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

His head shook no.

“Is there something wrong?”

Another shake.

“Are you upset with me?”

Tweek didn’t move.

“I said, are you-”

“I heard you the first time, jackass,” Tweek muttered. His body still hadn’t moved, his weight pressed against Craig’s side.

Craig had always found his stubbornness endearing, but this stung deep in his chest. It was clear he was upset. No amount of photo-looking or cuddling in bed or bread baking was going to change the fact that Craig was little more than a stranger; a doctor gone mad enough with grief to turn him into a living corpse. “Tweek?”

Silence.

“Do you just want to go see the babies?” Craig asked softly, trying his best not to cry in front of his patient. “We don’t have to talk about this right now. I…I promised you I wasn’t going to push you. We can just go see the guinea pigs.”

Tweek finally lifted his head, his good eye red from crying, tears slipping down his cheeks. He only nodded.

“Tweek, honey,” Craig sighed, unable to help wiping them away with his thumb. “It’s alright, just… you’re alright.”

The blonde’s cheek pressed into Craig’s touch, sniffling. “Yeah.” He awkwardly grabbed at Craig’s arm, giving a gentle tug as if to tell him he was ready to go. Craig took his cue and began to lead the way again. It was hard to look past what had just happened, but Tweek didn’t want to discuss it, so he had to respect that.

Soon enough they arrived at the large door leading into Craig’s breeding laboratory. He’d set it up several years before with Mephesto’s help. “Here we go,” Craig muttered, turning the handle and pushing it open.

Tweek immediately perked up.

The room was covered wall to wall with tubes and cages, guinea pigs around every corner. They roamed the floor and through the tubes, some sleeping in boxes or in piles of straw. “There’s so many!” Tweek cried excitedly, bouncing his heels against the floor as he attempted to take it all in. “So many!”

Craig gave a small smile, stooping down the floor to scoop up a piggie running towards the exit. “Come here, baby,” he cooed, unable to help pressing a kiss on the animal’s head. “You miss me?” When he glanced back up, Tweek had left his side, already halfway across the room. A group of guineas had gathered around him in curiosity. “Watch your step there,” Craig called, shutting the door to avoid any more escapes. It had happened a few times before, and he was not ready to chase anyone around the lab.

Tweek ignored him, continuing to run around the room. The horde followed close behind as the blonde practically pressed his face against the multi-colored tubes, staring at resting animals.

“You’re having _waaaay_ too much fun,” Craig commented, stifling a giggle. He carefully walked around the room as his own group of animals collected under foot, glancing into enclosures. Everything was just as he’d left it. He quickly pulled out his notebook, scribbling down his thoughts.

_October 19th_

_Tweek’s been feisty this morning. There was no issue while we were baking, but then out of nowhere, he’s back to being irritable and snarky. I wish I knew what he was thinking. He doesn’t really want to talk about what’s going on, so it’s not like I can get any answers. He likes the guinea pigs, though. I haven’t seen him this excited in a while. Everything in here checks out, luckily. There’s plenty of food in the containers, and all specimens appear to be healthy. With any luck, this little dilemma with Tweek will be solved so I can get back to breeding._

“Doctor!” Tweek shouted suddenly, breaking his train of thought. He turned to find the boy perched on one of the higher enclosures, a guinea pig nested in his hair.

“Jesus Christ,” Craig gasped, ignoring his own advice and running across the room as he tucked his notebook back into his coat. “How the fuck did you get up there?”

“Climbed,” Tweek muttered breathlessly, feet dangling over the edge. He kicked them playfully, a huge grin on his face. “I wanted to visit the up high ones.”

“You don’t fucking _climb_ , though,” Craig scolded, shaking his head. “What if you fall and break your arm?” Tweek often had spikes of fearlessness between his usual anxieties, but this was unreasonable. Tweek had _always_ been afraid of heights.

“Then you’ll just fix it,” Tweek said, tongue slipping out of his lips in playful mockery.

“Says who?”

“Says the guy who did _this._ ” Tweek extended his left arm, doing his best to wiggle his metal fingertips. “Now do I gotta jump and hope the ground is forgiving, or are you gonna catch me?”

Craig stepped forward. “You can’t be serious.” His arms extended by habit, anxiety through the roof. Tweek didn’t want to talk about the situation, but he sure kept bringing his point back up.

Tweek continued to kick his feed idly, lifting the guinea pig from his hair and setting it on his lap. Now that it wasn’t obscured by blonde fluff, Craig could tell it was none other than their baby. “I like it up here. I think _Stripe_ does too.”

“So you remember him?”

“Yeah,” Tweek sighed, petting him with his right hand.

“I don’t suppose you remember your fear of heights, too?” Craig remained still, afraid to turn away in case he fell.

“I dunno, doctor, you got a story for that?” Tweek sneered, continuing to teeter back and forth.

“Matter of fact I do,” Craig replied, unsure how else to respond. He’d asked, after all. “When we were 12 Clyde dared you to climb to the top of the playground equipment. You didn’t want to look like a chicken so you went all the way to the top. You know who had to climb up and help you down when you started screaming bloody murder?”

Tweek glanced down, an amused expression on his face. “You?”

“Me.” Craig practically glared at him. “Seriously, what’s gotten into you? You were fine this morning and now you’re on a warpath. Do you enjoy making my life a living hell, because that’s certainly a new thing from you!”

The guinea pig had crawled off Tweek’s lap now, the boy continuing to rock. “Aww, does it scare you I’m up here, doctor? You afraid I’m gonna fall?”

Craig held his ground. “I told you to get down.”

Tweek rolled his eyes, fingers gripping the edge of the enclosure. “Fine.” Without giving Craig much time to prepare, he pushed himself forward, sliding off the edge. He collapsed into Craig’s waiting arms, pulling both of them onto the floor as his arms flew around the doctor’s neck.

“Jeez,” Craig gasped as his knees hit the ground, instinctively pulling him closer to his chest. “I didn’t have to bring you here, you know! Would it kill you to listen every once in a while?”

Tweek let out a whimper, legs curling closer to Craig. “Ow,” he said, the confident teasing replaced with something smaller and much more vulnerable. 

As hard as he tried, Craig couldn’t stay mad at him. “Just don’t do it again,” he told him, voice much softer.

Tweek nodded against him. “Yes, doctor.”

“Did you hurt your leg landing like that?”

“A little,” he admitted.

“Do you want to go back to the apartment?”

Nod, nod, nod.

Craig sighed, shifting so he could lift the other boy in his arms. He ended up with something resembling bridal-style, Tweek’s cheek still pressed to his chest. He was much heavier than before the alterations, but Craig could still manage to lift him despite Tweek being practically limp in his arms. He was sure he could probably walk just fine, but he wasn’t about to push him away. It had been a rocky morning, and everything that had come out of Tweek’s mouth was worrying him. He was clearly unhappy with the situation no matter how hard Craig tried to tell himself it was fine. He carried him out the door, careful to shut it behind him, before walking him down the hall.

“Are you gonna put me back in that room, doctor?” Tweek asked suddenly, voice hardly a squeak.

Craig looked down, quickly shaking his head. “No, nonono, of course not, Tweek. Why would I do that?”

Tweek shrugged his shoulders, looking the other way. “I’ve been a pain in the ass.”

Craig sighed, slowing his pace. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to punish you. You’re upset, I get it, and that’s fine. I don’t think I’d be taking any of this well either, if I were you. It’s a process, ya know? It’s not gonna get better overnight.”

Tweek nodded, biting his lip hard enough to make it bleed. “I want to believe you, I really do. It’s just hard. It doesn’t feel like real things you’re telling me. It sounds like made-up stories. And…”

“And?” Craig pressed.

“It’s weird. I…I feel weird.”

Craig narrowed his eyes, unsure. “Is this about that outburst earlier?”

Tweek nodded. “I really shouldn’t be here, especially not like this. I don’t know if I’m… if I’m okay with it.”

Craig let out the air in his lungs, eyes looking up at the ceiling. “And by that, you mean?”

“I should be dead.”

He took a moment, choosing his next words carefully. “…Do you want to be?”

Tweek just shrugged his shoulders. “I should be,” he repeated, unable to give anything more.

Craig sighed, closing his eyes. “Tweek, honey, you’re fine how you are. We’ll get your memories back, and it’ll be like none of this even happened.”

Tweek just made a small sound, eyes distant.

They’d arrived at the apartment now. Craig practically kicked the door open, arms full. “I want you to plug yourself in and rest, okay?” he said softly, helping Tweek to his feet. “You can look in the photo album or I’ll find you something else to do.”

Tweek nodded quietly, wandering towards the kitchen to find his cord. Craig just let him go, a hand rubbing at his temple. This was worse than he thought. No wonder he’d been acting weird; Tweek couldn’t care less about his attempts. Nothing was working. Everything was falling apart.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” he muttered, both hands against his face now. He’d said that to himself too many times the last few days, but it was the truth. He was _incredibly_ stupid for thinking it would be simple. Life doesn’t work like that.

“Doctor?”

He lowered his hands quickly to find Tweek in front of him, cord in hand. “Yeah?”

“Can I lie down in the bedroom?”

He swallowed thickly, trying to get the thoughts out of his head. “Yeah. You need help plugging in?” He knew Tweek could do it himself, but he couldn’t resist asking.

To his surprise, Tweek nodded.

“Okay,” he said, walking him back towards the bedroom they’d shared the night before. Tweek laid quietly against the sheets, curling up in a little ball. Craig took it as his cue to insert the cord, putting it into the wall and then his neck. It beeped softly, a gentle hum emitting from the charging port. “There you go. Feel alright?” By habit, his hand began to pet at Tweek’s hair, smoothing it aside.

“Mmhmm,” Tweek said softly, eyes closing. “Keep doing that?”

Craig did as he requested, sitting down beside him. “I… I know this is really hard,” he whispered. He knew this was probably a bad idea, but something told him to try anyway. “You’re pretty freaked out about all this.”

“I’m perfectly aware of that, yeah.”

He closed his eyes tightly, grimacing. Jeez, he sounded dumb. “I mean… ugh. I know you wanna give up. I know you want nothing to do with me, or whatever I’m trying to accomplish keeping you trapped here. I know that you think I’m a weird, selfish stranger. I know you hate me.”

Tweek looked up at him, confusion in his eyes. “I don’t hate you.”

Craig raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t!” he insisted, but his voice was sleepy. “It’s confusing. This is confusing and it hurts and it’s terrible but… it’s…” He trailed off. “It’s wonderful, all at once. You, I mean. I don’t know if you’re always telling the truth, and sometimes you’re a dick! But I like you. I like your company.”

Craig widened his eyes. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Tweek cracked a smile. “You’ve made it a little easier. I know that boy in the pictures is me and all, and I know he loved you. Maybe I don’t remember it, but… I feel it.” He extended his hand towards Craig’s face, pulling him closer until they were laying on the bed, facing each other.

“You loved me,” Craig said quietly, completely baffled. “You did. And… I loved you. I _still_ love you. I love you when you scream at me, and when you throw your cord on the ground, and when you make a mess all over my house. I love you when you sass back at me and call me a jackass. I love when you bake bread in my kitchen and share coffee with me. I love when you look in the photo album and tell me all the things you remember. I love all of it because it’s still _you._ ”

He took in Craig’s expression, cheeks flushing red. The fans in his chest were going wild. “I think I might be falling in love with you all over again,” he admitted softly.

Craig’s eyes were practically full of stars. “Jesus,” he muttered, blinking a few times before curling closer, pulling Tweek into his arms. He held him close, eyes drifting shut. “For real?”

“Yeah,” Tweek whispered, letting their bodies press close together. He too closed his eyes, soothed by the gentle embrace. “Even if I don’t get my memories back, I’d like to make new ones with you.”

Craig’s lips curled into a smile, unable to help himself. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops >u>


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all your sweet comments and fanart omg <33333

_October 22nd_

_Things have been going pretty well. Tweek’s been doing a lot better. There have been less outbursts and he’s been able to enjoy himself more. We’ve gone and seen the guinea pigs at least twice a day, and the house always smells like bread, but that’s fine. It makes him happy, and I’d rather have him be happy than screaming at me and throwing a tantrum. It’s slow going, but I’m so sure we’re getting somewhere. I mean, it’s only been five days, as unbelievable as that sounds. I’ve gotta stay realistic with myself (and with him. He doesn’t deserve that sort of pressure.) Overall it’s great!_

_The only problem is we have no fucking food._

Craig set the notebook on the counter, fingers tapping at the cover. All the canned fruit was gone, even the disgusting pears. What little had remained in the pantry was also gone. He couldn’t survive off of just Tweek’s bread; he needed more substance, and it wasn’t like that flour was going to last forever. The bag was almost out.

“Tweek, we’ve got a problem,” he called, peering into the pantry. A few bags of baking materials were all that stared back at him.

Tweek’s head suddenly poked up from the couch where he’d been sitting, fully charged and alert. “Yeah?”

“We’re outta pears, and that was all I had left.” He’d saved them for last on purpose, but now even his least favorite thing in the world was completely gone. Mephesto had apparently been a big fan of them, since they had been the majority of the pantry’s small supply.

“If you’re hungry, I can make you more bread,” Tweek said, almost leaping from the couch in excitement.

“I can’t just eat bread forever.” Craig pressed his hand to his face, considering the options. “God, it’s only been five days…” He didn’t have much of a choice. He needed to eat, and he needed supplies. The winter snow was coming in full force, and he wasn’t sure how long he was going to have to hide out before Tweek was better. “There’s a convenience store a bit down the road that I could go to. Hopefully I’ll be fast enough and nobody will be around, so I won’t be recognized.”

Tweek widened his eyes, a look of concern all over his face. “I thought you said we couldn’t leave?”

“ _You_ can’t leave,” Craig corrected. “I _shouldn’t_ leave, but I’m gonna have to.” He stepped away from the counter, walking towards the bedroom with Tweek trailing close behind. He began to dig in the closet.

“I don’t know,” Tweek said quietly, the metal tips of his fingers tapping against his teeth. It had been a new habit he’d picked up a few days before, and the sound drove Craig crazy. “I really, really don’t know.”

Craig let his lab coat fall to the ground before putting on what he had found; a long scarf covered his mouth and the hood of a heavy winter jacket pulled over his head. “What do you think?”

“I almost can’t recognize you without the lab coat,” Tweek admitted, tilting his head.

“Well, you took my regular coat, and I’m not wearing this huge thing all the time.” Craig zipped up the front, getting comfortable. “Besides, that’s the _point._ I don’t want anyone to know who I am. It’s cold enough outside to where they won’t question if I’m bundled up like this. _Everyone’s_ bundled up like this.”

“What if they think you’re like… a robber or something?” Tweek asked, anxiety filling his voice. The tapping of metal on bone only increased in volume, his words slurred by the fingers in his mouth. “You’ve got your face all hidden, maybe they’ll see you and think you’ve got a gun in your coat and… and… what if the police get you? What if-”

“Tweek, it’s not the end of the world,” Craig assured him, despite his own worry. This was a huge risk. “I’ll be fine.”

“What if they get you and you don’t come back and I’m all by myself?” Tweek finished anyway, his hands raking down his cheeks to his collar bone. “God, I can’t be alone, I don’t wanna be alone…”

Craig immediately stopped what he was doing, stepping towards the other boy as realization dawned on him. Tweek hadn’t been by himself since the accident. “Hey, Tweek, hey... you’re fine, I promise.” Unable to help himself, he let his arms curl around Tweek, hugging him close. It was the few methods of contact Tweek had been okay with, other than the occasional touch that he initiated himself. “You’ll be okay. I promise, nothing is going to happen to me.”

Tweek shivered against his chest despite the warmth of his internal workings. “Okay,” he said softly, but he sounded unconvinced.

Craig released his hold, going to the nightstand to dig out his wallet and tuck it into his pocket. “I’ll get you anything you want from the store, too.”

“Eggs? Milk?” Tweek asked, perking up a bit. “Butter!”

“Of course,” Craig laughed. “All of that.”

“And sprinkles? The rainbow kind.”

“For what?”

“Cupcakes.” Tweek smiled sweetly, biting his tongue. “Please?”

“I did say whatever you wanted,” Craig sighed, ruffling his hair. “Here,” he said, taking Tweek gently by the arm. “I’ll walk you down to the guinea pig room. You can hang out there until I get back, okay? How does that sound? They’ll keep you company.”

Tweek thought about it for a moment before nodding. “Okay,” he agreed, somewhat reluctantly. He let Craig walk him out of the apartment and down the chilly hallway, all the way to the guinea pigs he loved so dearly. “Promise you’ll be back soon?”

“Promise,” Craig said, letting him in. “Now you take good care of them while I’m gone, okay? I’m counting on you.” If it had been anyone else, he would have joked that if the police _did_ get him, they would be responsible for the critters, but Tweek didn’t need that right now.

“I will,” Tweek replied a small smile on his face as he wandered into the room, immediately going to the floor to play with the gathering animals.

“I’ll bring you back some good stuff,” Craig whispered before shutting the door, leaving him alone. With a deep breath, he went the other direction towards the front door, shutting off the security system for the first time in days. Then he was out the door into the snow, entire body except for his baby blue eyes covered up from sight. He went down the driveway to the gate, pushing it open, before carefully closing it behind him.

Out into the world he went.

Craig made his way down the street, avoiding eye contact from the passing strangers. He still couldn’t believe he was doing this. Who else in South Park had his skin tone and those eyes? He was sure his face had been plastered on every newspaper and every lamp post by now. Someone had to be looking for him. All it would take is one glance and he was fucked, doomed to a life in jail (or worse) and for Tweek to be alone in the lab (or _worse)._ It was too hard to think about accidentally damning Tweek to an eternity of electronic loneliness, so he focused on the ground in front of himself, watching his boots kick up the snow. He didn’t have much cash on hand, and he didn’t want to use his card. He’d have to limit himself.

Soon he arrived at the store. It was a little run down place that most the town’s residents didn’t shop at anymore. Craig was surprised it was still in business, but also thankful. It was his saving grace. Whole Foods was too busy and much too expensive.

“Welcome,” the cashier called from the register as he entered, giving a small wave. He was an older gentleman with a strong southern accent. A TV screen buzzed near the ceiling, the sound of the local news clashing with the soft jazz playing over the loudspeaker. There were only four other people milling around the shop.

“Perfect,” Craig muttered before waving back, pulling his scarf a bit tighter around his face. He grabbed a small basket and went straight for the food, searching diligently. He grabbed a few more cans of fruit (anything but pears), some dried food and some cereal. Anything cheap, bulk and non-perishable went straight into the cart. A can of beans. A few boxes of mac and cheese. A bag of rice. He felt like he hadn’t eaten in so long, his mouth watering at the thought of actually cooking food. He tallied the price in his head for a moment before heading down another aisle.

He needed things for Tweek, too.

“Milk, eggs, butter…” he muttered, eyes scanning the refrigerators. What else did Tweek need to bake? He placed them into the cart, wandering along. “Sprinkles. Rainbow sprinkles.” God, that was cute. Can’t forget the sprinkles. He found them in the baking aisle, grabbing a bag of chocolate chips as well, just to surprise him. He checked the basket again before figuring he had enough. Time to run home before anyone knew he’d even been out.

Craig carefully slid into line at the cashier, toes tapping against the floor as the older woman in front of him took her sweet time. His eyes drifted to the TV in boredom, nearly dropping his basket at what he saw at the bottom of the screen.

_LOCAL SCIENTIST GONE MAD?_

“Jesus Christ!” he muttered, trying his best to keep quiet as he scooted closer. “E-excuse me, could you turn that up?”

The cashier sighed, but he obliged, finding the remote and turning up the volume as the woman continued to slowly load up her groceries onto the belt.

 _“Today we’re continuing our developing story on the story that’s rocking South Park,”_ the newscaster said, the headline taking up half the screen. _“On Tuesday, just after 12:30, driver Paul Richardson lost control of his truck just south of main street. During the accident, he struck and killed 19 year old Tweek Tweak just outside of his parent’s coffee shop.”_

An image of Tweek appeared on screen. Craig recognized it instantly as the one he’d taken himself for his senior photo. He had an exact copy in the photo album. “He’s not dead,” Craig muttered, fingers curling tighter around the basket.

_“It should have been a typical open-and-closed case, but it’s the unexpected that sent this story spiraling more out of control than the initial collision. South Park Police is looking for 19 year old Craig Tucker, the deceased’s boyfriend, on account of alleged body snatching and desecration of a corpse. Tucker was recently willed the old Mephesto Laboratory after highly-regarded Alphonse Mephesto passed earlier this year. The revelation has left many wondering if there’s a twisted reason to this heinous act. We now go live to Steve at Tweak Bros.”_

Craig just stared at the screen, face completely pale under his layers of clothing.

 _“Thanks Tom,”_ the reporter said, standing just outside the coffee shop. _“We’re now live outside of the scene of the crime, where eyewitnesses saw the suspect moments before the crash. One stated that it was maybe two minutes after he left with Tweek that the crash occurred, sending the corpse crashing right through this very window. The shop is currently closed, part in mourning and part due to repairs. One witness managed to catch the crime on camera, which police are investigating for leads.”_

There before Craig’s very eyes was a shaky phone recording of him running out the door of the coffee shop, clutching Tweek’s body close to his chest. There was something wild in his eyes. His clothes were covered in blood. He was yelling something. Did he yell when it happened? He couldn’t even remember.

God, no wonder everyone thought he had gone crazy.

_“The leader of the investigation, Sargent Yates, has stated that they believe Tucker’s status as a doctor combined with the grief of the situation drove him to commit the crime. It’s suspected that he is in possession of the Tweak boy’s corpse, although they don’t know where. The Tweak family, however, begs to differ.”_

The report cut to footage of Tweek’s parents outside the shop, surrounded by reporters.

 _“The police are doing absolutely NOTHING to help the situation,”_ Mrs. Tweak said, urgency in her voice as microphones crowded closer. _“They claim they have no clue where our son is, but I can almost guarantee they’re perfectly aware that Craig is hiding out in the lab. They just don’t want to go up there and deal with the situation!”_

 _“Craig was such a kind boy,”_ Mr. Tweak continued, leaning forward. _“He was an absolute angel to our young, homosexual son. We just can’t see why he’d do this to us.”_ He paused, voice dropping _. “Of course, this is great publicity for the business…”_

Mrs. Tweak glared at him. _“Please, we’re just urging Sargent Yates to actually take action. We just want to bring him home and bury him.”_

“He’s not DEAD,” Craig growled under his breath as it cut back to the reporter.

_“Yates has responded to the Tweak family, reassuring them and the public that they are NOT withholding information because they are afraid of Tucker and what he may be hiding within the lab. As for Tucker’s parents, there have been absolutely no statement.”_

What the hell did that mean? Did they contact his mom? His _DAD?_

_“Regardless, the Tweak family has scheduled a funeral this Tuesday despite the absence of a body. They hope that anyone who knew their son will come be in attendance. This is Steve, live outside of Tweak Bros Coffee. Back to you, Tom.”_

Craig took a deep breath, trying not to drop his basket and run. If he ran, that would be suspicious. If he stayed here, he could be caught. His face was just on the television, for fucks sake!

“That poor kid,” the cashier muttered, handing the elderly woman her change. “Gets killed by a truck and then mutilated by the guy who loved ‘em. Ain’t that tragic.”

“Tragic,” Craig muttered, depositing his food onto the conveyor belt in a rush. He wanted out as fast as possible.

“I can’t imagine what’s going through that young man’s head,” he continued, sliding the items over the scanner. “Who does that sort of stuff? He’s completely insane.”

“Absolutely _bonkers_ ,” Craig echoed, grimacing. He wished he had his journal. He could just see his entry now. _Fuckhead cashier won’t stop making jokes about Tweek being dead on the fucking TV, more at 11. Back to you Tom, you lying shithead._

There was one last beep and Craig shoved his wad of money at the cashier, letting him count the change. Money back in his pocket and bags of groceries in his hands, he hurried out the door, his chest screaming with anxiety. Too close for comfort. Way too close for comfort.

Then he noticed the payphone just outside the building.

His mother’s words echoed in his head. _“Call me when you get there,”_ she had told him before he left. He’d dropped his phone during the scramble for Tweek’s body, so he’d never gotten the chance. They’d apparently contacted her; she probably had no idea what was going on. The change in his pocket burned as he stared at it. It was so old that 50 cents could get five minutes.

Unable to help himself, he dragged his feet towards it, setting his groceries down in the snow beside him. He dug the two quarters out of his pocket and popped them into the machine, dialing home and bouncing with anxiety as it rang and rang and rang.

“Hello?”

Oh thank god, she was home.

“Mom?” Craig asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Mom, I’m-”

“Craig? Honey is that you?” She sounded surprised.

“It’s me, yeah. Mom-”

“Craig, what the FUCK is going on?” she practically yelled, urgency in her voice. “The police have come by at least twice a day all week! Where the hell are you?! Why haven’t you been answering my voicemails?”

“I lost my phone,” Craig admitted. “And I can’t tell you where I am, I just can’t.”

“Listen, your dad called-”

“Dad called?” Craig interrupted, suddenly much more interested in what she had to say. “You said he hasn’t contacted anyone since he left.”

“He hasn’t, Craig. That’s why this is so serious. The news went statewide; he saw your picture in the paper and called demanding answers I don’t have.”

Craig swallowed thickly, eyes closing in frustration. Of course the only time his father wanted anything to do with him was when he was a wanted criminal. “Mother fucker,” he muttered.

“Baby, please,” she begged, “just come home, okay? If you just tell them where the body is, I’m sure we can enter some sort of plead-”

“NO!” Craig shouted, fingers gripping the cold metal of the phone with more urgency. “Mom, mom no, you gotta listen, you gotta listen!” He felt so lost, regret filling his body. He shouldn’t have called. “Mom, come on, you’ve gotta listen to me, Tweek isn’t dead, he really isn’t dead!”

There was a sigh from the other side. Laura sounded like she was crying. “Craig, I know you’re upset about all this, but you can’t play pretend right now.” It was as if she was talking to a child. “You need to come home.”

“Mom, he’s alive,” he begged. “I brought him to the lab and I saved him, he’s just… he can’t remember much, he doesn’t remember me, but he’s alive, god, mom, he’s-”

“Craig _William_ Tucker, this is not a fucking game!” she yelled, the shout making Craig jump. “Stop it! He’s dead, of course he doesn’t remember you, he’s dead! Please, where are you, I’ll come get you, I can _help_ you if you’d just-”

Craig slammed the phone back onto the holder, letting it click off.

His entire body felt numb as he picked up his bags from the snow, practically sprinting as he headed back up to the lab. He was not a liar. He was not a criminal. He was not a body snatcher. He had not hurt Tweek. Tweek was alive, Tweek was alive, Tweek was alive.

It wasn’t pretend.

It wasn’t a game.

He burst through the front door of the lab, immediately locking the entire building with the security system. No risks. If the police did come knocking, he’d keep Tweek safe. He’d always keep him safe, no matter what. That’s why he’d saved him.

He pushed open the door to the guinea pig room to find Tweek gone.

“Oh my god,” he muttered, taking a step back and letting the door swing itself shut. Nononononono. He was not a liar, he was not a liar, he was not a fucking liar! He turned sharply on his heels, walking slowly at first before breaking into a panicked sprint down the hall, still gripping his groceries tightly in his hands. He was going to show Tweek what he’d got and they’d make cupcakes together, because Tweek was alive. Very, very alive.

Craig shoved open the door of the apartment, letting the bags drop to the floor as he looked around. He didn’t relax until he saw the familiar fluff of blonde hair lying flat on the couch. “Jesus,” he breathed, shoulders relaxing a bit. “Tweek, you scared the shit out of me! Why are you all the way over here? I thought you were staying with the guinea pigs?”

Tweek didn’t say anything as he curled smaller around himself, his face pressed into the cushions. He’d plugged himself into the wall, arms curled to hide his head.

“Tweek, are you alright?” Craig stepped closer.

“Yeah,” he said softly.

“Did you behave while I was gone?”

“Yeah.”

Craig took a breath. No, he couldn’t do this, not today. “Did something happen?”

Tweek paused, nodding.

“…And what would that be?”

“You’re going to be mad,” Tweek said, refusing to move.

“Why are you hiding?”

“You’re going to be mad,” he repeated.

Craig let out a huff. “Tweek, seriously, stop fucking around. What the hell did you do?”

Tweek let out a whimper before lifting his head, revealing the damage. The sensor over where his left eye had once been was broken. Bits of metal were hanging from where they’d been wielded, the lens of the eyepiece completely shattered.

“What the fuck did you do?!” Craig gasped. He couldn’t help himself as he curled his fists, slamming them against his head.

Tweek screamed, leaping off the couch. The cord slipped from his body as he took off towards the bathroom, slamming the door. There was a click.

He’d locked himself in.

“Oh fuck,” Craig whispered, suddenly realizing what he’d done. “Tweek, Tweek no, don’t…don’t go in there,” he urged, dropping his coat and scarf to the ground as he hurried after him. He gripped at the door, giving it a firm jiggle. Nothing. “Open the door, please, come on…” He hadn’t taken care of the mirror yet. There’d been no opportunity.

“No,” Tweek said, voice wavering.

“I’m not mad, I’m sorry,” Craig begged, forehead pressing against the wood in frustration. “I’m sorry, just…something happened, and I’m on edge. I didn’t mean to blow up. Just come out, okay? Let’s talk about this. I can fix it really easily if you cooperate.”

Tweek said something, but it was too soft and muffled by tears.

“I’m not mad,” Craig repeated. “Please come out. I…I got you the stuff for the cupcakes. Milk and eggs and those sprinkles. I even got you chocolate chips, the little mini ones you like.”

There was silence.

“Come on, just…you…you know there’s mold in the bathroom, remember? Let’s just make cupcakes.”

A pause, then a click.

The door swung open to Tweek rubbing at his eye, hiccupping softly.

“Come here,” Craig sighed, pulling him into a hug. “You’re fine, let me see…” He gently tilted his chin upward, examining the crack. “Really though, how’d you manage that? I wasn’t gone for that long.”

Tweek sniffled, looking the other way. “Well I was with the guinea pigs, and I wanted to see Stripe, but he was way up high. So I climbed up again, and I was holding him, and it was fine. But then, all the sudden, I remembered a bad feeling. I didn’t feel it before, but suddenly I really wanted down and I screamed and then I just…kinda…fell.”

“You fell?” Craig repeated, eyes widening. “You hit your sensor while _falling?”_

“I hit my head on one of the tubes when I slipped,” Tweek admitted.

Craig just shook his head, pulling him back into a hug. “I’ll fix it in a little bit. I just… I need some time to think first, okay? I left the groceries by the door. If you unpack them you can make those cupcakes, alright?”

Tweek smiled weakly up at him before scampering off, leaving Craig alone. He wandered to the kitchen for a moment to grab his notebook off the counter before going into the bedroom, careful to shut the door before letting the tears slide down his face.

_October 22nd_

_I’m a wanted criminal and the only person on my side is an amnesic frankenstein with the temper of a two year old and all the grace of a rock._

_I’m truly alone._


	8. Chapter 8

“Alright, let’s look at the damage.”

Tweek sat on the metal table in the small lab room, fingers interlaced on his lap, legs swinging anxiously. The broken sensor hung limply out of its casing. Once Craig had willed himself to stop crying and leave the bedroom, Tweek had already put away the groceries and stirred up the batter for the cupcakes. However, actually baking them was going to have to wait.

“I don’t like this,” Tweek whispered, barely lifting his head as Craig stepped forward, his lab coat on and ready to work. “I don’t want to do this.”

“You should have thought about that before you broke it,” Craig said, trying his best not to sound too upset. He took Tweek by the chin, tilting his head side to side as he examined the sensor. “Can you…uh, there’s really no better way to say it… see out of it right now?”

Tweek nodded against his hand, fighting for control of his head despite Craig’s hold. “A little bit. It’s like when you’ve got cracked glasses, though.” His fingers went from his lap to the hem of the hospital gown, tugging for a bit before they went to his mouth, biting at the metal tips. “I put my hand out in front of me, but it’s hard to tell how far,” he slurred, lips curling around the digits.

“Well, that’s better than it being completely disabled,” Craig sighed, carefully touching at it with his free hand. “Altered depth perception is to be expected…and fingers from your mouth, please.”

Tweek obeyed, dropping it back into his lap with a huff. “I don’t want you touching me.”

Craig shook his head, trying not to let it get to him. Tweek didn’t like physical contact, but with _him,_ it had never really been a big deal. “I know you’re nervous, but this isn’t your organic body. It’s not even going to hurt if you cooperate.” He’d hugged him twice so far that day, what was the difference?

Two steps forward, one step back as usual.

Tweek just huffed again, resisting the urge to curl away as Craig pulled the sensor right out of what he considered to be his _eye_ , the wires visible if he crossed his good one towards his nose. “Oh my _god_ ,” he whimpered, his body screaming at him to run and run and run until he was far away from the lab.

“You’re doing fine,” Craig soothed, carefully snipping at the wires with the tool in his hand until it was free. “I told you, I can hit the power button if you want to just sleep through this.”

“No fucking way,” Tweek snapped, but his voice was too nervous to be threatening. “There’s no way I’m going to sleep while you poke around in me. You think I’m crazy?”

“Of course not, I’m sorry,” Craig sighed, continuing his work. “You’re going to experience, uh…blindness in the left eye for a second, okay? I need to look at this thing.”

Tweek felt like someone had suddenly covered his eye with black paper, entire body trembling. “Put it back,” he begged.

“I’m getting there,” Craig said calmly, fiddling with the device. “It doesn’t look too bad really. Lemme grab a new lens. You feeling okay for me to leave for a minute?”

“No,” Tweek admitted, voice shaking. “I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

Craig paused in his work, setting the sensor down on the counter before sitting down on the table beside him. “You can’t throw up, you haven’t eaten anything in…three days. There’s nothing in there.”

“I don’t need facts right now,” Tweek muttered, letting his head drop onto Craig’s shoulder.

The familiarity of the statement struck an odd feeling inside the doctor as he wrapped his arm around him, pulling him closer. “I’m sorry,” he said, hand sliding to rest against Tweek’s forearm, giving a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay if you’re nervous. It’s probably weird for me to poking around like this.”

“Really fucking weird.”

Craig let out a small laugh, unable to help smiling. “I promise you’re doing great. If you’re feeling sick, you can just lie down for a moment, okay? I’ll go grab the lens and we’ll finish this up.”

Tweek nodded in defeat, waiting for Craig to slide off the table before lying himself down. “Just hurry.”

“You bet,” Craig said, grabbing the sensor before leaving the room. After his scare earlier that day he wanted to lock the door, but he wasn’t about to risk Tweek’s trust. Things had been going too well to pull a stunt like that. For the most part, Craig could hug him and be near him. They’d slept side by side almost every night, and Tweek more often than not wound up wrapped around Craig like a koala bear by morning. If he could just keep remembering, things would go back to normal. Craig could practice creating organic material and cover up the metal bits. It would be as if nothing ever happened.

At this point, he wasn’t even sure if that was a viable option. It was going to be a matter of days until the police came knocking on his door. He doubted he’d be able to make it to Halloween without being in jail.

Craig flung open the door to a storage room, digging around in cardboard boxes of metal bits until he found what he assumed to be a busted security camera. The lens was close enough in size and uncracked, so he quickly pulled it off and replaced it onto Tweek’s sensor. There. One problem of many solved.

He hurried back to the lab, finding Tweek exactly where he left him. “It’s fixed. You still good?”

Tweek nodded weakly, refusing to sit up. His glance told it all.

“You know what, that’s fine,” Craig sighed, stepping closer. “Just stay lying down. It’ll be easier if you don’t squirm away.”

Tweek didn’t respond, good eye staring blankly at the ceiling. His face was pale, fingers curled tightly around the blue jacket he hadn’t taken off since he’d found it. “Go fast,” he whispered.

“I’ll be _very_ fast,” Craig assured him, fiddling with wires as he hooked the sensor back into place. He could hear Tweek breathing heavily, the whirling in his chest growing louder with every passing second. “Good breathing, you’ve got it.”

Tweek’s good eye closed, brows furrowing. “It hurts,” he whined.

“It can’t hurt, it’s not your body. You just think it hurts because…” Craig paused, suddenly remembering what Tweek had told him both minutes before and hundreds of times before that. “I…I mean, I’m sorry if it does. How does it feel?”

“I don’t know… tingly, I guess.”

“That’s okay to feel that way. When we’re done, do you want to finish the cupcakes? It’ll help you feel better.”

Tweek wanted to nod, but the fear of making Craig mess up kept him frozen in place. “Yeah.”

“Good. Now tell me when you see something,” Craig said, pliers curiously poking the metal cavity. “It should be….right about now.”

Tweek blinked a few times, releasing his breath. “It’s there,” he said, relieved. “I can see.”

“Good,” Craig sighed, equally relieved. “Now, let’s-”

He didn’t get a chance to finish as Tweek’s left arm suddenly jerked, smacking him hard in the chest.

“Dude, what the fuck!” he shouted, stepping back. “I just fucking finished and _now_ you’re gonna hit me?!”

Tweek’s right hand clasped hard against his elbow, starting to scream. “I DIDN’T DO THAT! I DIDN’T DO THAT!” He scrambled upright, eyes going from his arm to Craig and then back again. “I _swear_ I didn’t do that! It did it by itself!”

“Ugh… it’s probably just the system reacting,” Craig muttered, stepping back into place. “Can I see? Do you feel anything weird?” He took the arm in his hands, moving it side to side. Nothing looked any different, the metal against his fingers cold as ever. “It looks fine.”

“It’s fine _now_ ,” Tweek said, shaking all over again. “A little numb, but it’s going away.”

Craig wished he could make a snide comment, but he wasn’t about to make Tweek upset by bringing up the fact his left side was mostly metal. “Do you want me to check inside just to be safe?”

“ _Hell no_ ,” Tweek growled, pulling his arm from Craig’s grip and folding them protectively across his chest.

“Then you can’t complain,” Craig retorted, unable to help himself.

Tweek’s eyes widened. “But what if something’s wrong? I…is there something else?”

Craig bit his lip, thinking. “Okay, I’ll just...just move your hands really fast. I won’t open you up unless I have to.”

Tweek didn’t move.

“Listen, all I’m asking is for you to trust me, okay? Can we manage a _little_ trust today?”

His eyebrows furrowed into a pout but he listened anyway, letting his arms fall back to his sides.

“See, it’s not that hard,” Craig cooed. He pressed one hand against his chest, the other reaching to his back. The humming of fans and the pumping of his modified heart felt fine, the heat seeping through the hospital gown onto his fingertips. He then ducked down just enough to press his ear to his middle, listening for a moment to the dull hum.

“Is it okay?”

“Yeah, seems normal.” He stood back up, offering him a hand. Tweek’s trust had filled him with a little more hope. “If it happens again, we’ll take a look.”

Tweek’s tension released as he took the hand, sliding down from the table. “Finally,” he sighed, glad to be finished. “I wanna make the cupcakes.”

Craig smiled at him, trying to stay focused despite his mind begging to wander elsewhere. “Cupcakes, yeah…” They stepped out of the lab together, their fingers interlaced for the first time in a while. He’d usually just take his arm.

“The hallways are real big,” Tweek commented idly. “This place is just so big.”

“Lots of people used to work here,” Craig said, remembering fondly. “They all left when Mephesto died, though. Now it’s just the two of us.” He wondered what it would have been like if he’d brought a half-dead Tweek to a lab full of scientists. They’d probably have had his memories back by now. He wouldn’t look the way he did. Mephesto would probably pat him on the shoulder and tell him it was a job well done. The town would think he was a hero.

Right now, they probably thought he belonged in an asylum.

“You know, uh… for some reason, it’s making me think of something,” Tweek said, trying to break the awkward silence. “I mean, I don’t remember what it is, exactly, but it’s familiar. And last night, when we were asleep, I had a dream.”

Craig perked up. “Oh?”

“You were talking to me in it,” he continued, eyes closing in an attempt to remember. “I couldn’t see you. It was like you were talking through a telephone. Kinda muffled? You said, uh… you didn’t really want to dance. And I took your hands- I couldn’t see you, but I grabbed you- and I pulled you closer and there was loud music. And color! Lights, I think.”

Craig listened intently, struggling to understand. “And then what?”

Tweek’s face flushed. “I think you kissed me, but I think I…I wasn’t like this. There was metal in my mouth but it wasn’t mine.”

“Braces,” Craig breathed, eyes widening. “Prom night. You know that picture? The one I first showed you?”

“Yeah?”

He didn’t bother to finish his thought, stopping in his tracks as he let one hand grab for Tweek’s shoulder. “Do you know what you told me the other day? Before all this?”

Tweek just stared at the floor, trying to remember.

“The hallways are big enough for _dancing_ ,” he whispered, taking Tweek’s hand and placing it on his waist. “That’s what I think you were trying to remember.”

Tweek’s expression changed as if something was finally dawning on him. “You don’t dance,” he breathed as he lifted his head, their eyes finally meeting.

“Maybe,” Craig said, taking a small step. “But I always danced for _you_.”

Tweek couldn’t help but grin, moving closer so their position was more comfortable as they began to move. Slow steps became a full waltz as Craig clumsily followed his lead. It just felt so natural, like he’d done it hundreds of times before.

  _Fuzzy memories of being on a stage, someone in the audience cheering his name as he took a bow. Costumes. Waltzing hand in hand with a classmate. “Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?”_

There was nothing but the sound of their feet against the tile, but now Tweek swore he could hear music thumping in his ears. It was far away and muffled, buried at the back of his mind, but it was there; a cheesy pop tune he could barely remember singing along to in someone’s car, Craig pressing kisses to his cheek. When he closed his eyes he could see the lights twinkling green and blue and red behind his eyelids.

“What do you see?” Craig whispered against his ear.

Tweek’s head fell against his chest, their feet slowly coming to a stop.  “ _You_ ,” he whispered back.

_Craig with a tuxedo and a bow tie, dark hair combed neatly. Braces poking out from a dimpled smile. Streamers covering the walls._

“Just like the picture.” Tweek opened his eyes, looking up at him. Unable to help himself he pressed onto his tiptoes, their lips colliding in a kiss. The fear in his body just minutes before completely melted away, arms shifting to wrap around his neck. This was _right._ It just felt right.

Craig pulled back, eyes wide in search of answer. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again, unable to form words. He was completely stars-truck. “What was _that_?”

“I don’t know,” Tweek admitted softly. “I just felt it.” His eyes went to the ground, but Craig picked his chin up, touch much gentler than in the lab.

“Damn right,” he said, pressing one more kiss to Tweek’s lips. Their hands slipped back together, Tweek practically leaning on him as they continued their walk back to the apartment. His heart was pounding in his chest just like the first time they’d kissed when they were twelve- a real kiss, not just something small on the cheek. He was too afraid to speak, as if it would ruin the moment and make it completely disappear like the memories vacated from Tweek’s head.

He pushed open the door to the apartment, finally letting go of his hand. God, the room was freezing; he couldn’t help but shiver. “You can go make those cupcakes,” he said softly, unable to shake the hazy feeling from his head. This had to be a dream.

“Do you wanna help?” Tweek asked, grabbing for his hand, ready to pull him off to the kitchen.

“I’m a little tired,” Craig admitted. Despite the wonderful feelings in his chest, earlier events had left him drained. “I’m just gonna sit.” He shivered again, managing to free himself from Tweek’s fingers as he walked towards the couch, flopping down. “Can you grab me the blanket from the bedroom?”

Tweek blinked a few times. “It’s not that cold.”

“We can’t all be personal space heaters,” Craig laughed.

Tweek ignored his request anyway, practically climbing into his lap. His head rested against his chest, their limbs entangled, his warm core flush against Craig’s body. “The cupcakes can wait.”

“What the hell happened to ‘don’t touch me’?” Craig said, exasperated. He wasn’t about to complain, though.

“I don’t know,” Tweek admitted, letting out a small breath. “For now, it’s okay.”

Craig didn’t dare complain, settling into place, his arms wrapping around Tweek to rest on his back. It felt good to be so close. One hand pet at the blonde’s hair, careful to be mindful of the button on his neck.

Craig’s eyes drifted shut, lulled by the hum of the fan and the warmth against his body.

\--

_His eyes opened to the sight of his living room, the TV blaring static. He couldn’t move his body. All he could do was stare at the screen and let the noise fill his ears. There was something trying to appear on the channel, but the fuzzy feeling was growing stronger, spreading across the room into his body, contaminating the space. It couldn’t break through. It tingled in his limbs, from his fingers to his toes to his eyes. His vision was hazy. He could just make out a news reporter’s voice, strangled by the sound, repeating his name over and over and over. Craig Tucker. Craig Tucker. Craig Tucker._

_“Why did you do it?” a voice asked him sternly. “You’re a fucking disappointment.”_

_He couldn’t tear his eyes from the screen, but he knew his father was standing behind him. He couldn’t answer._

_“This is why I left you; nobody wants a criminal for a son. Where did you hide the body? The Tweak’s are looking. Your mother is looking. I called her on the phone.”_

_The tears he couldn’t shed stung in his eyes._

_“Stop playing games,” his mother’s voice told him, stepping in front of the TV screen, blocking it from view. The numbness began to fade from his body the second his gaze was severed. “Stop playing games, Craig, this isn’t a game. Where did you hide it?”_

_“Hide and seek,” he whispered, flinging himself from the couch. This was a game, it was all a game after all! Tweek was just hiding somewhere. The robot was an imposter. One, three, four, five. Come find me! He had to hurry or he’d be too late. Static poured from his mouth as he scrambled from the living room towards the front door, flinging it open._

_Sargent Yates blocked the door. “Where did you hide the body?”_

_His mouth opened, but the only sound that came out was the terrible screaming fuzz from the TV set. His hands snapped behind his back, a force pushing him into a chair he hadn’t realized was even there. A light shined in his eyes._

_“Where did you hide the body?” the officer asked again. The room was dark. Where did his mother go? His father?_

_“I didn’t hide it,” Craig begged, panic in his voice. “I didn’t do it!”_

_“Where did you hide the body?”_

_“Tweek is alive!”_

_“Where did you hide the body?”_

_It was like a broken record in his ears, over and over and over._

_“He’s alive,” he begged, wrists straining against the handcuffs. “He’s alive in the lab!”_

_Another officer stepped into the room. He looked like Dr. Mephesto, a stern expression on his face. “You disgrace me. Look what you’ve done. You killed him.”_

_“I saved him,” he sobbed, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I saved him…”_

_Yates stepped aside, revealing a battered Tweek behind him. His left side was gone, one hazel eye staring deep into his soul. “You killed me,” he whispered, but it was as loud as a scream in his ear._

_“I saved you,” he told him, watching as the body staggered closer. He looked down at himself. He was wearing his lab coat now. It was stained in blood. Tweek opened his mouth and screamed in agony._

_“You killed him,” Mephesto said again._

_“No,” he begged, voice catching as metal fingers dug into his shoulders._

_Tweek was behind him now, his monstrous creation, holding him in place. “I’m worse than dead now.”_

_Sargent Yates turned. His face was now his father’s.  “You couldn’t let him go. You couldn’t let us go.”_

_“I DON’T WANT TO LET GO,” he screamed as all three closed in closer around him, the light blinding his eyes until there was nothing but white in his vision and static in his ears._

_\--_

“Doctor Tucker? Doctor? _CRAIG_!”

Craig suddenly froze, mouth agape, his entire body in a cold sweat. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, struggling to breathe.

“Are you okay?”

He took a shaking breath as his eyes focused on Tweek. The metal fingertips were holding his shoulders, but much gentler than he had imagined. One hazel eye met two blue, panic written all over the other boy’s face.

“Doctor, are you _okay?_ ” Tweek asked again.

Craig’s fingers slowly rose to his face, his thumb wiping away the remnants of tears. “Y-yeah,” he muttered, eyes closing as he rubbed at his temple. God, just a dream.

“I don’t think you’re okay,” Tweek said, his worried expression unwavering. “You just suddenly started screaming and flailing around, I didn’t know what to do!”

“Nightmare,” Craig breathed, his lungs unable to expand enough to take it in. “God fucking dammit…” Tweek just watched him for a moment until he felt like he had caught his breath, hands still against his shoulders.

“What happened?” he finally asked.

Craig just pulled him close to his chest again, lying back down against the couch. “Everyone thinks you’re dead.”

“In the dream?”

“No,” he admitted, letting out a shaking breath. He was going to have to tell him. “When I went out today, um… I was at the store, and there was a news broadcast. Everyone thinks you’re dead and that I stole you to do science experiments or something.”

“Well… isn’t that kinda what you did?” Tweek asked, cheek pressing against his chest.

“No!” Craig said defensively, almost offended. “That’s not what I did at all, not on purpose anyway. I just… I couldn’t wait for the ambulance to get there. It would take too long and you were already so far gone. I brought you here for good reasons, not bad ones. They think I’m _insane_.”

Tweek pressed an awkward kiss to his chest, eyes closing softly. “You’re not. I mean, not all the time.”

Craig gave him the tiniest smirk, continuing to rub at his eyes. “I called my mom, too. She was pissed. She said my dad contacted her and _everything._ ”

“Hmm?”

“Oh.” Craig snorted, rolling his eyes. “My dad’s a son of a bitch, ‘kay? He walked out on us when we were 14 years old; cheated on my mom with some lady on a dating website. You probably don’t remember, but you gave me a notebook because I was upset. That’s why I write in the blue one.”

Tweek hummed in acknowledgement.

“Well, anyway, it was bad enough for him to call because my face is all over the news. The police are looking for me, Tweek. My mom is looking for me. Your parents are looking for _you,_ as in your _corpse._ They’re hosting a goddamn funeral.”

“Why don’t we just tell them then?” Tweek asked. “I’ll just show up and then nobody will be sad anymore.”

“You don’t understand, if they see you like this, they’re going to freak the fuck out and we’re _double_ done for.” Craig bit at his lip, fingers stroking Tweek’s hair again. “We have to stay here until this is fixed.”

Tweek huffed. “I don’t get it. What’s the plan? I’m still half-dead, and I doubt I’m gonna remember much else than what I’ve already got. How long are we supposed to wait this out? You just gonna fix me over and over forever? Keep making grocery runs with your face all covered up? _Are you going to let me outside?_ ”

Craig shrugged, unsure how to answer. “I…I don’t have a plan,” he admitted. He’d never thought that far. “All I know is that we just _can’t_.” He squeezed Tweek tighter, the dream echoing in his mind. He didn’t want to lose him. He lost his dad. He lost Mephesto. He wasn’t about to lose Tweek. He didn’t even notice the way the boy’s arm was twitching awkwardly against his body.

He couldn’t let go. Never ever ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rename this fic "craig has abandonment issues"


	9. Chapter 9

Craig hadn’t remembered falling back asleep, but here he was, blinking the tired out of his eyes as his arms stretched above his head. He knew by the warm, heavy pressure against his chest that he was still on the couch, his boyfriend curled against him. His wild hair obscured his face from Craig’s view, but he knew he was fast asleep by the way his chest rose and fell at such an unusually slow rate.

Blue eyes strained to glance across the room at the microwave clock. It was early morning of the 23rd, just one day shy of a week from Tweek’s initial accident. He let out a sigh, relaxing his head against the cushion, eyes closing again.

Almost one week and not a single knock at the door. Maybe everyone had just forgotten?

“No, they wouldn’t have,” he muttered to himself, pressing a hand to his face as he rubbed at his mouth in thought. The newscast had shown that the Tweak’s were desperate. He doubted they’d rest until they got Tweek back, and boy would they be in for a surprise when they did. “Goddammit,” Craig sighed, looking down at Tweek again. At some point during the night he’d plugged himself in, the charging cord running from the back of his neck to the nearest wall.

“Tweek,” he whispered, gently petting at his hair. “Wake up, honey, it’s morning.”

Tweek let out a small sound, slowly lifting his head. His expression was dazed as he blinked sleepily at Craig. “Hmm?”

“Wakey wakey,” Craig teased, daring to press a kiss to his cheek. Tweek didn’t seem to mind. “We fell back asleep, I guess.”

“You fell asleep first,” Tweek corrected, carefully climbing off the couch. The lack of warmth left Craig shivering. “You were upset and I was just lying with you and the next thing I knew you were gone again. No nightmares, then?”

“No nightmares,” Craig echoed, arms and legs curling closer to his body. “Breakfast?” He hadn’t eaten since the previous morning, and he had a ton of freshly-stocked groceries to choose from.

Tweek’s eyes widened as he sprinting towards the kitchen, letting his cord fly from his neck. “I forgot to finish the cupcakes!” he shouted, scrambling for the abandoned bowl on the counter.

“Don’t use that,” Craig yelled to him, hurrying to his feet and following after. “It’s been sitting for half a day, that’s fucking gross!”

“Who made me stop?”

“Who wanted to get repaired?”

Tweek narrowed his eyes, lips curling into a pout. “You want me to waste it? You wanna be a _waster,_ Craig?” He had one hand against the bowl and the other on the spoon, almost daring him to answer.

“Oh, so we’re on first name basis now?” Craig raised an eyebrow, having stopped just outside of the kitchen. His arms crossed against his chest as he mimicked the blonde’s expression. “And no, I don’t, but I’m not eating the cupcakes if you put that shit in the oven.”

Tweek’s expression shifted, gripping the bowl with both hands now. “Fine, _Craig,_ ” He snapped, carrying it to the trash and dropping the whole thing, spoon and all, unceremonially inside. “Done.”

“You’re a smartass, you know that?” Craig growled, hands flying to his hair. He never imagined himself being the one to yank it all out- that was Tweek’s thing- but sometimes his behavior drove him close. Was every morning going to be like this now? “You’re going to fish that bowl out of the trash or you’re not allowed to make any at all. And you better wash it before you put anything inside!”

“Fine, _mom,_ ” Tweek huffed, but his face twisted into a guilty expression. Craig watched as dug the bowl out, scooping the leftover batter back into the can with the spoon. He then carried it to the sink, getting to work.

There was a moment of silence as Craig realized what he’d done. Tweek looked like he was about to cry. “Sorry,” He sighed, moving closer. “I didn’t mean to yell.” He stopped beside him at the sink, watching as Tweek’s fingers scraped against the bowl, metal-on-metal making an unpleasant sound. “I’m just cranky still, I guess.”

Tweek didn’t say anything, eyes focused on his work. His right hand took the sponge, scrubbing quietly as the sound of running water filled the room. “Were you always this much of a nag?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.

Ouch.

“No,” Craig said defensively, arms still crossed, unsure what else to say.

“Then why are you always bossing me around?” Tweek scrubbed harder, brows furrowing. “Don’t climb up there Tweek, you’re afraid of heights apparently. Plug yourself in Tweek. Don’t eat the pears, Tweek. Don’t touch that, Tweek. Stay inside Tweek. Listen to me, Tweek!” He practically threw the sponge back down into the sink, the fingers on his left hand twitching uncontrollably. “Why do I have to listen to you?”

“Because I care about you,” Craig replied bluntly, still at a loss for words. “I’m not trying to upset you, okay? I’m just trying to keep you safe.” He took another step closer, watching Tweek’s face as his hand moved to rest on his shoulder. The blonde didn’t push him away. God, he just wanted to hug him and kiss the bad feelings away until Tweek’s memories were back in his head and the metal was gone from his body. Words were hard. Actions were easier.

Tweek stopped his frantic scrubbing, his good eye looking this way and that, searching for something to say. “You were never good at talking,” he said cautiously, finally daring a glance at the hand touching him. It was a familiar feeling. Sympathetic. Apologetic. Loving. It was as if it was radiating from the doctor’s fingertips.

Craig just nodded, averting his gaze. The hand on Tweek’s shoulder slid down his arm, fingers tracing the blue jacket until they were in the sink, pulling his left hand away from his work and interlacing their fingers. He squeezed. _I’m here,_ it told him. _I’m sorry. I love you._

Tweek squeezed back. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t wanna be mad at you. I’m just frustrated, okay? I don’t wanna just stare at pictures in a photo album and tell stories. I wanna see the coffee shop. I wanna see my parents. I wanna see my friends. I want to know them again, like I know you. I wanna bake and dance and sing and hold your hand out _there._ ”

“I know you do,” Craig told him. “We’ll get there, I promise.”

“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it,” Tweek said, finally meeting his eyes.

Craig swallowed thickly. “I do mean it,” he said. “We’ll make a plan, okay? We’ll figure out how to make it happen. We’ll get you home.”

A smile played across Tweek’s lips before he quickly kissed Craig, eyes closing softly. “Okay,” he said, the heavy mood finally lifting. “I’ll…I’ll clean up and make you some cupcakes for real. Really good ones.”

“That would be great,” Craig sighed, letting go of his hand. Tweek went back to scrubbing the bowl and spoon as he made his way to the pantry, pulling out the box of cereal he’d gotten from the store. He took a handful straight from the box and shoved it in his mouth, too lazy for silverware.

“It’s clean,” Tweek announced, giving the bowl a few hard shakes before setting it back onto the counter. Tweek hurried to gather his materials, most of them still sitting on the counter. He filled the bowl, lips pressed close together in concentration.

Craig just shoveled cereal into his mouth, watching with curiosity as Tweek began to hum. It was sporadic at first, a few notes here and there, but soon it transformed into a song. The doctor paused his cereal-munching as he listened, expression full of wonder as he attempted to fill in the words. “Put it down,” he whispered to Tweek’s tune, lips barely moving.

Tweek froze, looking up. “Excuse me?” he asked.

“You were singing our song.” He was at a loss for words. “Do you remember it?”

Tweek blinked a few times, staring at the cupcake batter as if it would give him an answer. “Cupcakes?” he muttered, a strange glint in his eyes. “The cupcakes…”

“Go make some cupcakes, honey,” Craig said softly, unable to help smiling as Tweek’s face lit up, his eyes full of love. “You remember that, huh? You remembered it a few days ago, too.”

Tweek nodded, looking dazed. “We were together,” he remembered.

“You played the piano,” Craig said.

“You sang the words.”

“You held my hand.”

Tweek clicked his tongue as he began to stir the batter again, deep in thought.

Craig let him think, hands raking through his oily hair. It had been days since he’d showered. Tweek had taken up so much of his time and attention that he hadn’t even thought about it. “Uh… would it be okay if I go get cleaned up?” he asked. “You can finish these.”

Tweek smiled sweetly, tongue poking from his teeth, eyes scrunching. “Sure. Just go fast, remember? Mold in the bathroom.”

Mold in the bathroom. Oh shit, that was right. His lie. “Yeah, I’ll be quick,” he sighed, leaving Tweek to his baking and entering the bathroom, careful to lock the door behind himself. In the privacy of the closed room he dared to push the sheet on the wall aside just enough to glance at his reflection. God, he looked like shit. He’d slept an awful lot the last few days, but there were still bags under his eyes, dark hair a complete mess. He’d always kept it neat before. It was jarring.

No matter, he was about to fix it. Craig quickly covered the mirror again before stripping down and hopping into the shower. It was leaky and old, something he’d intended to fix shortly after moving in, but that hadn’t quite happened after his priorities were shuffled. He started the water and watched the faucet drip drip drip against the tile, the cold spray trapping him against the wall for a moment until it was warm enough to step into.

Fingers raked through his hair and down the sides of his neck as he let out a sigh. Wash away the bad feelings, wash them away… sure they’d fought this morning, but Tweek was happy again. That was the priority until he could come to a logical solution how to handle him.

The water poured over his face. Get clean, get dressed, get back to figuring out what he was going to do with his creation… The nightmarish vision of bloody, dead Tweek threatened him every time his closed his eyes. Fate worse than death? What could be worse than death? He’d done Tweek a favor.

The hide and seek was a big fat lie. Franken-Tweek was not the impostor. Dead Tweek was. He shook his head, grabbing for his soap. Maybe he really was going as insane as the town had painted him to be. The dream could be evidence enough. He rubbed the soap into his hair, letting out the air in his lungs until they were completely empty.

The sound of Tweek screaming pulled his mind back to reality.

“Jesus Christ!” he muttered, rushing to wash out the soap before nearly slipping in his scramble to turn off the water. He didn’t bother to get dressed, wrapping a towel around his middle. His hair was dripping water onto the floor as he threw open the door, sprinting to the kitchen. “What the hell happened?”

Tweek sat against the floor, back pressed to one of the lower cabinets. The bowl of batter was spilled all over the counter, the spoon halfway across the room. His right hand was clasped tightly to his left wrist. As soon as Craig entered he glanced up, wide eyes, mouth open. “Why aren’t you dressed?” he breathed.

Craig’s eyes just looked over the scene in shock and confusion. “I…s-seriously, stop ogling me and tell me what happened! Why are you on the floor?”

Tweek jolted to his feet, still gripping his wrist. “It happened again!” he said urgently. “I was baking and it just went out of control!”

“Your arm?”

“Yeah!” he practically screeched, panic in his eyes. “I don’t know why!”

“Hey, hey, hold on,” Craig soothed. He wanted to hug him, but given the lack of clothing, he was sure Tweek would lose his shit. “Just… hey, come on now-”

Too late. Tweek threw himself against his chest anyway, nose smushed against his skin. He let out a muffled whine, words too slurred to understand.

“What?”

“Fix it,” he said louder. “Fix it, fix it, fix it…”

Craig took a step back, hands out like he were approaching a small animal. “Okay, hold on, just… just wait right here, give me a second to get dressed okay? We’ll get down to the lab and figure out what’s going on.”

Tweek let out another whine, hands slapping harshly against his cheeks, fingers digging into the skin. “God, hurry up, HURRY UP!” he demanded.

“I’m going, jeez!” Craig gasped, sharply turning towards the bedroom. _Good morning how are you, Craig? Fine, my boyfriend’s bipolar personality is driving me up the wall, how about you?_ If Tweek saw the way he scrawled his thoughts out in his journal, he’d kick his ass. The closet was thrown open and he grabbed the first shirt and pair of pants he saw, dressing quickly. When he returned to the kitchen, he found the remaining flesh on Tweek’s left arm nearly bleeding from how tightly his fingers had been gripping it.

“Make it stop,” Tweek begged, forcing it flush against his chest. It trembled, jerking violently in his grip.

“I’m getting there,” Craig said, the situation starting to finally hit him. Jeez, he had no idea what was going on. Was he malfunctioning? Did he mess up his wiring? He grabbed Tweek by the arm, rushing him out of the apartment towards the lab.

“Can you fix it?”

He furrowed his brow, trying to think. “I…yes,” he said, but his tone was unsure. His eyes wandered as he tried to think, their feet tapping against the tile floor at an increasing rate. The static sound from his dream was filling his ears again. Something wasn’t sitting right in his chest. “Something is wrong,” he said suddenly, pulling them to a halt.

“Of course something’s wrong!” Tweek practically screamed, still holding his arm.

“No, a different wrong,” Craig insisted, letting go of him and taking a step back. His eyes darted left and right as he tried to focus.

“Craig-”

“Tweek, seriously, hush up!” He closed his eyes tightly, trying to listen.

Sirens.

_Oh no oh no oh no oh no_

“God fucking DAMMIT!” Craig screamed, taking off running the other direction. Tweek cried out something to him, but he didn’t hear. Monitor, monitor, where was the monitor? He didn’t know where his feet were taking him until he stopped outside of the security panel, the little screen on the wall displaying a fuzzy image, blurred by his panic. Focus, focus, focus! He could just make out two police cars outside the gate, a familiar officer stepping out of the vehicle.

“Doctor, what’s going on?” Tweek’s voice begged, a violently shaking hand pressing against his forearm.

“Tweek we…okay, we’re gonna…” Craig sputtered as he turned around, eyes going back and forth between Tweek’s face and the monitor. “We’re…um…”

“Craig?”

Craig squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, face going red with frustration. “I’m just… okay, Tweek come on, we’ve gotta just…just follow me, okay?” Before Tweek could respond he grabbed at his arm, practically dragging him down the hall as he sprinted back into the lab.

“What’s going ON!?” Tweek begged again. Craig could hear his breathing come in gasps and shakes. He was having a panic attack, he just knew it. The doctor wasn’t far from one of his own as they reached the door to the little lab room where it had all begun.

“Tweek,” he said quickly, grabbing him by the shoulders so they were eye to eye. “I need you to listen to me carefully.”

Tweek just stared at him with wide eyes, unable to move, body in shock.

“There’s police outside the gate and I’m pretty sure they’re coming for me,” Craig told him, voice catching every other word as he heaved. He felt like he was going to vomit. “You’re just gonna go inside the room and I’ll lock the door, okay?”

Tweek’s head shook violently, still at a loss for words.

“Don’t shake your head at me,” Craig begged, almost shaking him, fingers digging further into his shoulders. “Don’t shake your head, don’t, come on Tweek…”

He didn’t stop, practically screaming now.

“Tweek,” Craig said louder. There was a knocking sound in his ears. He couldn’t tell if it was the door or his heartbeat.

Tweek’s left arm slammed against Craig’s chest, jerking wildly. “Nooooo,” he howled, trying to fight back as Craig began to push him into the room.

“Tweek, you have to!”

“NO!” he screamed again, this time with more vigor. There were tears flowing from both their eyes now, each trying to get the upper hand. “What about YOU!?”

“If I hurry I can run and distract them! They’ll catch me and leave you alone!” Craig blurted. He knew it was such a longshot, but it was the only option coming to mind. “They’ll leave you alone and you’ll be safe!”

Tweek’s fists pounded against his chest, teeth bared as he continued to scream. Sometimes it was words, sometimes it was nonsense. “LET ME GO! I WANNA GO TOO!”

“YOU CAN’T!”

“I CAN! I CAN I CAN _I CAN_!” Tweek was starting to get the upper hand, but he was losing stamina fast. “Please, PLEASE,” He begged. “LET ME OUT!” His eyes darted to Craig’s right hand attempting to sneak towards his shoulder. “NO!”

“STOP!” Craig shouted back as Tweek grabbed at his wrist, trying to fight it away.

“DON’T DO IT! DON’T YOU DARE!” His voice was hoarse from his screaming, barely making a sound, his head twisting violently side to side. He kicked his legs, struggling to control himself. “DON’T LEAVE ME HERE! DON’T LOCK ME IN AGAIN! YOU PROMISED! YOU PROMISED!”

“Tweek, I can’t lose you again,” Craig sobbed, the fear and pain in Tweek’s eyes too hard to watch. “It’s for your own good.” He yanked the hand free as Tweek’s fingers twitched wildly in weakness. Before he could catch it he slammed his palm against the button on the back of his neck.

In half a second, Tweek went from screaming and fighting to limp as a rag doll, eyes rolling shut and body flopping down to the floor.

“Oh my god,” Craig muttered, pressing his hands to his mouth. The sirens in his ears were blaring louder and louder.

_Where’d you hide the body? Where’d you hide the body? Where’s the body Craig?_

“IT’S RIGHT HERE!” he screamed into the empty room, his cries falling on sleeping ears.

God, he was absolutely insane.

The media was right.

He left Tweek on the floor as he hurried from the room, door wide open. The plan had to work, he had to make this right. His feet carried him quickly out the front door.

“Jesus, there he is! FREEZE!” screamed Yates’ voice, but Craig didn’t listen. He took off down the road as fast as his feet could carry him, the cold of the snow hitting his jacketless arms.

“COME AND GET ME!” he shrieked. His vision was swimming. Time was slowing down. No feet, go faster! This wasn’t the time for a meltdown. There was yelling. More sirens. Someone shouted his name. It sounded like his mother. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe.

Craig stumbled, falling face first into the snow.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ones a tad short but the next chapter needed to be its own thing so uhhhh here we go  
> thanks for all the nice comments on here and tumblr,,,, sorry for makin ya cry
> 
> //save your tears for the finale my friends//

Tweek’s eyes flew open, a jolt of electricity shooting through his body. A scream flew from his lips as he scrambled to his hands and knees, glancing every which direction in confusion. Where was he? What happened? What happened? Metal fingers scraped against the tile floor of the lab room, synthetic heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe…

He let out another shriek before flopping back against the floor, hands raking down the side of his face. He could feel the cold seeping from the floor against his skin. “MOTHER FUCKER!” he cried, choking out tears. How much time had passed? Where was Craig?

The thought of the other boy sent him into another screaming fit. His hands went from his face to the floor, pounding in frustration and fear. “I WANT OUT!” he cried into the empty lab. He knew he was alone, but it felt good to scream. “I WANT OUT, I WANT OUT, _I WANT OUT_!” He dug the metal into his thighs, scratching what was left of his skin until it was bleeding, red staining the clean white linoleum. The air wouldn’t enter his lungs no matter how hard he tried. His left arm was twitching erratically despite the grip on his skin. He wanted it to stop. He wanted everything to stop.

With another choked sob he curled in upon himself, cheek against the floor, eyes struggling to focus. Breathe, breathe, just breathe… He felt like he was suffocating. The walls were closing in. He was alone. Craig had betrayed him. He promised he wouldn’t go back in the room. He promised he’d let him out into the world.

“Liar,” he choked, the stinging pain in his legs just enough to keep him grounded as he stared at the wall, gnawing at his lip between broken gasps. “Fucking liar, fucking liar, mother fucker son of a _bitch_ …” The tears from his eyes felt like acid on his face. It hurt, everything hurt. He was alone. He was all alone. He wanted the doctor to come into the room, arms crossed, that stupid look on his face. He wanted him to laugh and say, _did you learn your lesson, Tweek? Are you going to behave yourself now? It was all a joke! It was a test!_

No such saving grace came. The door remained just a crack open, but Doctor Tucker never came from him.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he managed to peel himself up off the floor, body trembling. He felt numb despite the pounding in his chest. He could breathe, but the air was still heavy in his lungs. He rubbed at his eyes. What happened? What the _hell_ happened? Usually when Craig hit his power button, he was out for _hours_. It didn’t feel like that much time had passed. His legs wobbled as he took slow steps across the floor, trying not to look at the small pool of blood he’d created. His thighs felt sticky as he awkwardly used his hospital gown to wipe at them. “Go away,” he muttered to the feeling. “Go away now.”

It didn’t leave, but he pressed on anyway, door squeaking open as he peered out into the hallway. He felt tired. He had just woken up, why was he so tired? Fingers scraped against the doorframe as he steadied himself, looking up and down and left and right. It was clear. Nobody was around.

Was Craig a liar? Where were the police?

“Doctor?” he called weakly. He hated him, he loved him. He wanted him gone forever, he wanted him to hurry back. He didn’t know what he needed. He didn’t know how he felt. The drip drip drip of blood against the floor accompanied his footsteps as he walked back to the apartment.

He opened the door. Nothing was different.

The spilled bowl of cupcake batter was still all over the counter, the spoon near the doorway where he’d thrown it. Craig’s lab coat was against the back of the couch. The air was cold and still.

He glanced at the clock. It was still the morning. He must have overridden his shutdown, somehow. There was no other explanation to how he was awake.

Tweek took a shaking breath as he walked into the apartment. Hours before it had been full of life. Now it felt as abandoned as Tweek did. He carefully put the bowl upright on the counter, staring at the mess. Better clean up before Craig gets home. He’ll be home soon. He’ll be happy if the mess was taken care of. He wiped it up with a towel, stepping back to stare at his work. All clean. His left hand twitched against his thigh.

The silence was driving him mad. He’d only been alone like this once before and the past week, and even then it had been hard. The guinea pigs only offered so much comfort. “It’s okay,” he told himself, his voice still hoarse from his screaming. His breath caught in his throat. “It’s okay, it’s okay…” Those acid tears streamed down his face for the second time. Had they ever really stopped? “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay…”

If he said it enough, it would be real.

He left his clean-up attempt behind as he wandered to the bedroom, pushing open the door. The photo album lay on the bed, Craig’s blue notebook next to it.

His fingers itched as he stared at it. He’d never seen inside; Craig usually kept it so close to him that it was impossible to get a chance. He hadn’t even felt the urge to look until now. The blue cover and the gold lettering called to him.

Unable to control his morbid curiosity, Tweek climbed onto the bed, flipping it open.

_October 17th_

_Patient Tweek Tweak (19, Male) has been fitted with robotics pertaining to facial features, breathing capacity and circulation as well as other vitals._

He narrowed his eyes. Craig really was a big fat liar. He had been taking notes the entire time. He flipped the page.

_October 18th_

_It’s hard to think it’s already been a day. It feels like years and yet no time at all. He’s asleep in that little room and I wish I could put him somewhere more comfortable. He just needs to cooperate with me… I guess it’s just a waiting game. And I can be patient. I can do this. I can let him take his time._

His expression immediately softened as he flipped the pages. He skimmed the pages, snippets of entries jumping at him.

_Tweek Tweak is still somewhere in there, I can feel it._

_It’s easy to pretend that it’s just regular old Tweek behind me. I mean, I can’t see his face. If you ignore cold hands covered in metal, it’s hardly any different._

_I’ve created a Frankenstein, for fucks sake._

_Also, note to self: destroy the fucking mirror._

Mirror?

Tweek paused, eyes blinking away the remnants of tears. Monster? Face? Frankenstein? Mirror?

Mirror.

“Mother fucking TRIPLE LIAR,” he whispered, aggression filling his voice as he flipped the notebook closed, leaping from the bed. His body still felt heavy, but he stumbled back out of the bedroom to the bathroom door. He could hear the faucet dripping in the shower. He pushed it open.

His eyes glanced to the blanket tacked against the wall.

“Mold in the wall,” he muttered, his right arm outstretched, fingers trembling. He froze, hesitating. It had to be here. He had to look. He was desperate.

Stories swirled in his mind. Craig had told him time and time again that he was beautiful, that he looked just fine. He said that he just needed his memories and he’d be normal again. He’d be the smiling boy in the photo album. He’d be the boy who held his hand at prom and kissed him and waltzed them into the night. He’d be the boy who’d comforted him at his lowest, who gave him notebooks to help him with his feelings, who baked him cupcakes and wrote music and stuck flowers in his hair.

With another deep breath he closed his eyes, catching the fabric between his fingers. He kept them squeezed as he ripped it aside, hearing the clatter of push-pins hitting the floor.

“One, two, three,” he whispered to himself before forcing them open, his heart drumming even louder.

Oh no.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

The air refused to enter his lungs as he stared at himself, eyes wide, mouth open.

No, this wasn’t right at all. It wasn’t right. This wasn’t real. “It’s not…” he muttered, barely able to speak. This was _not_ the boy in the pictures. He watched his reflection as a trembling hand moved to touch at the metal on his face.

He could feel it against his fingertips, cold as ice.

“It’s not _him_ ,” he choked, taking a step backwards, hands against his chest. “It’s not him…” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mirror. He couldn’t stop staring at the _thing_ he was seeing. It was wearing his hospital gown, now stained with blood. It was wearing the blue jacket he’d put on days before. It had his hair, and one of his two hazel eyes. It had freckles and long eyelashes and pale skin, but it was not the same. It was not _Tweek._

“It’s not him,” he said again before breaking eye contact with the monster in the mirror, bolting back towards the bedroom. He scrambled for the photo album, throwing it open, flipping the pages wildly. Tweek, Tweek, Tweek.

Tweek didn’t look like _that_.

The Tweek in the pictures didn’t look like a monster.

“Oh my god,” he choked, a hand pressed against his mouth in an attempt to silence himself. He felt himself go numb again. He didn’t know how the doctor had looked at him every day like this. He hadn’t realized it was so bad. He’d seen the metal on his hand and arm and legs. He’d felt the button at the back of his neck and the energy flowing from his charging cable. He was perfectly aware of the hatch on his chest. How could he have been so blind?

He slammed the book shut, stumbling to his feet. No wonder Craig had kept him inside. If anyone saw him like this, they’d probably _kill him._ What was he supposed to do now? His brain couldn’t think.

There was a sound outside in the hallway.

Tweek froze, breath catching. That did not sound like Craig’s footsteps; Craig’s were much lighter. In fact, the closer he listened, the more it sounded like _two_ people.

“What exactly are we looking for, here?” a voice asked, muffled by the thin walls of the apartment.

“The body, I guess. Or some sort of evidence,” the other said. “Chief said to check the lab.”

Tweek didn’t move until the footsteps were further away, moving in the direction of the main lab and away from the front door. The port at the back of his neck let out a beep, but there was no time to sit around and charge. Nobody could see him, not like this. He needed out, and he needed out FAST.

He took a careful step forward, sneaking from the bedroom to the door of the apartment. He paused at the doorway, listening carefully. No voices, no footsteps. It was safe. He pushed it open and walked as quietly as possible in the opposite direction of the lab, right to the front door. The security camera feed caught his eye as he walked past, pulling him to a stop.

There was only one police car outside the building now, and it was completely empty.

“Good,” he breathed, fingers gripping his hospital gown as he continued his trek forward, stopping at the front door, peering out the peephole. The feed did not lie. Nobody was outside. All he had to do was get out and…

He hadn’t considered his next step. What would he do? Where would he go? He didn’t know if Craig was okay. If the police had him, they’d surely hunt down Tweek next. Sure, he was mad at the doctor for what he’d done, but he really had been just trying to keep him safe. Now they were both in danger.

“Johnson, you gotta see this…”

A sound at the other end of the hallway made Tweek jump, head whipping from the door back towards the lab.

One of the police officers stood in a wide stance, gun in his hand. It pointed right at Tweek, ready to fire. He swore he could hear the fear in the man’s voice as he whispered “freeze” from across the room.

Tweek let out a shaking breath, unsure what to do. That was a gun. That was a fucking _gun._

“Johnson!” the officer urged again, still staring him down. “Does this place have a gas leak or something? I swear to fucking god, the body’s _walking_.”

Tweek let out a shaking breath, eyes searching frantically. His arm twitched violently.

“I said FREEZE!”

Stay and get caught? Risk it and run?

Without giving himself time to change his mind, he threw open the door, bolting out into the snow as the gun let out a series of shots, all of them barely missing. He could hear yelling and commotion behind him as he took off down the road, going as fast as his feet could carry him. His toes fell numb in a matter of seconds as the ice below chilled them, his bare skin pounding against the sidewalk. Mistake! Mistake! He was hardly wearing any clothes!

Tweek let out a shriek as he nearly slipped, barely managing to keep on his feet. The air felt so good in his lungs, and the bright, natural light in his eyes was amazing too. The feeling of freedom kept him going as sirens began to wail. He carried himself further and further from the lab, far away until he was sure he’d lost them.

When the adrenaline washed away, he was left with an empty chest and a numb body.

He suddenly realized he had no idea where he was, or where he was going.


	11. Chapter 11

_It was dark._

_He could feel his bare toes curl against the cold floor, feel the air in his lungs, but he couldn’t see. His body felt heavy. His breath came in shorter and shorter gasps._

_“Hello?” he called. That was not his voice._

_He took a step back in the darkness, eyes darting in every direction. Where was the light? Where was he? It felt so big and so small all at once. He could breathe. He was suffocating. Something was pounding harder inside his chest. Static was filling his ears again._

_Click. Click. Click._

_One by one, like something out a horror movie, the florescent lights above him came on in a neat row. The walls were narrow, the floor stretching on into infinity as each new bulb flickered to life. The floor was white, the walls were periwinkle, the hospital gown was green, his skin was pale. He felt like a ghost as he stepped forward into the brightness, barely able to take it in._

_“Where are you going?” a voice called behind him. The goosebumps went from chills to fear and back again, hairs on his neck on end. His left side was heavy._

_This was not his body. This was not his body. This was not his body._

_“Where are you going?” it asked again, this time whispering in his ear. It smelled like death. He opened his mouth. Out came the static, filling the room, his body. His limbs went numb. “Where are you going? You can’t escape here. We need you.”_

_“No!” he finally screamed. Not his voice. Not his voice. Not his voice. Bare feet took off running down the hall, the lights continuing to click on with every step he took. Every movement took so much effort, his left side weighing him down. He felt like he was going to topple over. The lights behind him were shutting off as he passed them, leaving him in a continuous loop of chase. He couldn’t see far enough ahead. He couldn’t see behind._

_“Don’t leave,” the voice whispered in his ear. “We’ll take care of you here. Don’t you want to help us?”_

_“No!” he shrieked again._

_“Don’t you want to help people?”_

_The walls were closing in. The lights weren’t coming on fast enough._

_“We just want to understand.”_

_“Don’t touch me!” he sobbed, feet sliding and body hitting the floor. The walls were too close. The lights were too dark. There were hands against his skin and voices all around. Prodding. Poking. Whispering._

_He could only curl up smaller and cry out his own name. Craig. Craig. Craig._

\---

Craig let out a cry as his eyes flew open.

It was dark and it was cold, but there was no hallway or people touching him. There was no hospital gown. There was no pounding in his body, no metal in his skin.

He took a gasping breath. Just a dream, just a terrible dream…

He couldn’t move his arms.

The reality of the situation was finally sinking in as he began to focus on his surroundings. It was a small, dimly lit room with nothing else but a glass window and a door on the opposite wall. A metal table was in front of him, a light high above his head shining on him like a spotlight. The chair he was sat in was uncomfortable, his wrists caught intertwined with metal handcuffs a click too tight.

Craig squirmed. God, this was worse than a nightmare. He couldn’t just wake up and roll over and tell Tweek that he’d-

Oh. Oh no.

He swallowed thickly in the silence of the room, panic setting in for real. This was some sort of interrogation room. He’d seen enough TV dramas where the police brought the murderer into somewhere like this to talk in soft, demanding voices until he cracked. Craig didn’t need soft, demanding voices. He’d already lost his damn mind before the officers even entered the room.

How could he have been so stupid? Shut Tweek off, throw him in a locked room and run out the door? What would that accomplish? He let out a shaking sigh, trying to resist the temptation of tears. Tweek was going to wake up alone and upset in a tiny room.

He was going to feel the abandonment Craig had tried so hard to avoid for _himself._

“What have I done?” he whimpered, head lowering in defeat. He couldn’t remember if he’d locked the door, or even left Tweek his charging cord. If the police found him shut down and asleep, would they think he was dead?  What if they found him out of battery, a corpse again? Would they think he’d been dead all along? Would they see any trace of living, even so much as a glimmer? Mephesto’s hopeful sighs filled his mind. All Craig had seen when he’d looked at Terrence’s cloned body was death, but Mephesto had seen different. He’d seen _life._

He let out another shuttering breath. What if they found _Tweek_ alive _?_ That almost seemed like a worse thought. Nightmares plagued through his mind as his eyes shut, squeezing out a single tear. His chest heaved. Would he end up trapped? Would some other doctor, someone not as kind as Craig, come along to take care of him? Tweek would be so afraid.

Craig was already so afraid.

He paused mid-sob as the door clicked open, heavy footsteps entering the dark room. He dared to open his eyes, coming face to face with Sargent Yates. Craig had sworn he had been set to retire soon; his hair was full of white, wrinkled face practically sneering at him as his eyes raked over him with disgust. This was likely not the “last case” he had been looking to take on.

“Craiiiiiig Tucker,” he muttered, drawing out his first name like a yawn.

“Sir,” he responded, unsure what else to do. He didn’t have much of a choice. His hands were literally and metaphorically tied.

Yates paced around the table, the light still glaring in Craig’s face. He was sure that if he really was in one of those cop shows, there’d be a cool shot from above. The drama would be building. It would have tense music. The audience might be rooting for him to break the cuffs and have a cool fight scene.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” the grizzly voice finally asked. He sounded tired. Bored. Uninterested.

“I…I don’t know if I understand,” Craig admitted, trying not to look at him. The footsteps continued to circle, heavy beats slow and steady.

“Why’d you do it?”

A pause. “Because I love him,” Craig said, biting his lip, eyebrows furrowing. He would not cry in front of the police chief. He would not show his weakness.

“Ah.” Step. Step. Step. Pause.

“And,” Craig said, braving a glance. Yates had stopped just outside the ring of light, watching from the shadows. “And because I didn’t want to lose him.”

“You realize it’s a criminal offence for stealing a body?” Yates asked, fingers brushing against his moustache. “Five years _minimum_ , if you’re lucky. That’s up to the Tweak’s and how many charges they wanna press. You know a good lawyer, kid?”

Craig scowled. “It wasn’t a body,” he said, aggression in his voice. Maybe if he had the strength, he could pull that movie stunt. He’d break from his prison cell, guns blazing, explosions going off in the background. He’d run back to Tweek and carry him off into the sunset to live happily ever after. “Tweek wasn’t dead. He _isn’t_ dead.”

“Yeah, and I ain’t goin’ bald,” Yates muttered, hand reaching to rub at the spot near the back of his head. “Come on kid, quit fucking with me.”

“I’m not a fucking liar!” Craig blurted, jerking sharply in his chair. “I’m serious! He’s alive! He’s…” Fuck. If he admitted where Tweek was, it would be all over. Fate worse than death? He’d guarantee it if another scientist got his hands on him or the town saw what he’d become. “I… I fixed him. With genetics and metal and…stuff.”

“Like Frankenstein?”

“I don’t think you’d like it if you called him that,” Craig said, but he didn’t deny it. He’d used the word himself in his journal. It was hard not to with how he looked.

Yates let out a sigh, rubbing at his temple, one hand on the metal table. “Jesus Christ, this is worse than I thought.” The hand lowered. “You expect me to believe that on October 17th, you just picked up an _almost_ dead body, took it to your lab, did some experiments, and brought him back to life?”

Craig nodded violently.

Yates just stared for another minute. “Bull. Shit.”

His heart dropped. “No,” he practically begged, pulling at the cuffs. “It’s… it’s not!”

“We’ll find the body at the lab and it’ll be alllllll over, Tucker.”

“I didn’t do it!”

“Just tell us where the body is,” Yates said. “Where’s the body? If you tell us, all of this will be much easier.”

He felt like he was spiraling. Nightmares flooded his vision. The light was too bright. Yates was leaning over him, demanding answers. _Where’s the body? Where’s the body? Where’s the body?_ The numb feeling was leaking into his body as he struggled to breathe. “No,” he begged again, “it’s…I’m not lying! I’M NOT LYING!” He jerked harder against the cuffs, kicking his legs, letting out a desperate scream.

Yates just stared at him before grabbing for the radio on his collar, clicking the button. “Reeves, do you copy?”

There was a faint buzz before a signal came through. “Sir?”

“Can you bring Laura back here, please? He won’t budge.”

Fuck.

“Mom?” Craig gasped, his vision blurring. “Mom is here?”

The door clicked open, but Craig didn’t hear it. It was if cotton was stuck in his ears; everything was muffled. Vision blurred and unblurred until he could see his mother in front of him, being escorted in by another officer. He didn’t notice he was still screaming, tears running down his face until her hands were against his cheek, their eyes meeting.

“Craig,” she demanded, but her tone was soft. He stopped, heaving, trying his best to listen.

“Mommy,” he whispered, feeling as small and afraid as lost child.

_Bare feet against tile floor. Screaming. Fear gripping his body. Hands reaching into blonde hair, tugging sharply. Help, help, help._

“Craig, honey, calm down,” she told him, her thumbs gliding over his cheeks. “Calm down, you’re making this worse.”

He took another breath, trying to steady himself. He wasn’t a child. He was an adult, a functioning adult. “I’m not,” he growled, only making the tears flow faster.

“Craig, please, you need to listen to Yates,” she continued, forcing eye contact. “I talked to Helen this morning, they agreed they won’t press additional charges if you just give them Tweek’s body. We can fix this, baby, you just need to cooperate.”

Craig jerked again, trying to get away from her touch. “No!” he cried, panic seizing his chest again.

_A small room, light blinding his eyes. Officers crowding around. Tweek screaming, blood dripping down the side of his body. Where’d you hide it? Where’d you hide it, Craig?_

“Craig, stop!”

“HE’S ALIVE!”

_Rain falling against a dark umbrella. Tombstones. Fingers tracing the lettering after laying a flower against the soil. Gone, gone, gone._

Yates was stepping closer when a buzz from the radio on his chest pulled his attention. Laura continued to beg. “What?” he barked, watching the scene unfold. Craig could barely hear him. Cotton ears, cotton ears.

“Sir, this is Johnson-”

Yates threw his hand up. “Laura, shut that kid up,” he practically shouted, bringing it closer to his ear. “We’ve apprehended the suspect, what’d you find?”

“Sir, you’re not going to fucking believe this,” the voice said. It sounded like he was shaking.

“Body?”

“Sort of.”

“The fuck you mean, _sort of_?”

Craig froze his yelling, eyes widening.

“Sir, it’s… we saw him _walking_.”

There was a dead silence in the room.

“Walking?” Yates asked finally, the buzz of the radio static filling the room. “Are you _shitting_ me?”

There was the slam of a door as another officer burst into the interrogation. “Sarg? We got trouble.”

“Jesus Christ!” the chief practically yelled, eyes darting between the two other people in the room. “Why do you keep interrupting me?”

Craig’s entire body trembled with fear as he craned his neck in an attempt to see.

The officer held up his phone, a blurry photo on the screen. “Someone just sent us this, I think you should take a look.”

 “Is that the fucking-”

“They spotted it downtown,” the officer continued, urgency in his voice. The image was just out of Craig’s view, obscured by his mother still holding his face. “We don’t know what the fuck is going on, but we need to go get that _thing_ before it causes a mass panic. We’re already getting frantic phone calls. People are demanding answers!”

“I KNOW WHAT PEOPLE ARE DEMANDING,” Yates shouted, pointing at the door. “Go get a cruiser ready to go, I’ll be there in a minute!” He was suddenly turning on his heels, following him out the door.

“Yates!” Laura shouted, running after him.

The door slammed.

Craig was alone again.

He took a heaving breath, trying to sort out what he’d just witnessed. His mother, the photo, the radio call…

A bit too late, he screamed out a “TAKE ME WITH YOU!”

It fell on deaf ears.

Oh, he was sure it was Tweek. There was no doubt. He had to get to him before the police or they were all doomed! Craig yanked at his cuffs frantically, but they refused to give way. He felt trapped. The walls were closing. He wanted out, he wanted out, he wanted out.

Click.

“Mom?” a voice whispered from somewhere beyond the table, red hair catching the light.

“RUBY!” he practically screamed, pulling at the cuffs again. Oh god, she was his saving grace. Before he could say anything more she flew herself across the room, practically knocking the chair over as her arms went around his neck in a hug. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Trica muttered, pulling back. “I’m just glad nobody came in here yet.”

“They just fucking left,” Craig corrected. “If you’re looking for mom, she’s with Yates.”

“I don’t wanna see mom right now,” she said, giving him a pout. “I wanted to see _you._ ”

Craig’s expression softened, sniffling away the remains of tears. “Sorry you didn’t get to come to the lab yet. There’s been a…”

“A dead Tweek? Yeah, I heard.” She smirked, hand pulling a key from her pocket.

“Where the fuck--”

“Yates is an idiot,” she laughed, quickly moving to unlock the cuffs. “Left it right on his desk.” There was a click and Craig released his arms, rubbing at his wrists. “Now, let’s get out of here.”

He stumbled to his feet, utterly confused. “Rubes, you can’t _drive._ If you didn’t come with mom, how are we getting out of here?” Before he registered what was happening, Tricia had grabbed his arm, pulling him down the empty hallways of the station right out the front door to a familiar car stalled just outside.

She just turned to him, flashing a grin. “I brought a getaway driver.”

The window of the car rolled down, the back door thrown open. Familiar faces were full of urgency, voices begging him to hurry up.

“ _Three of ‘em_ , to be exact.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one or two more chapters left ;)


	12. Chapter 12

“Dude, holy shit, you’ve been all over the news! The hell is going on?” Token shouted from the driver’s seat, waving his arms frantically. “Get in, get in!”

Craig practically threw open the passenger side door, Tricia climbing into the back between Clyde and Jimmy. As soon as they were inside, Token slammed on the gas, the car speeding away from the station.

“God, I have never been so fucking glad to see you assholes,” Craig muttered, still rubbing the remains of tears out of his eyes. His back pressed firmly against the seat as the car accelerated down the road.

“That makes like…four of us,” Token muttered, fingers gripping the wheel like his life depended on it. “God, Tricia, you took forever to get him. We thought they caught you or something!”

“Sorry I couldn’t fuckin’ find him!” she retorted, squirming uncomfortably in the tight space of the back seat. Token’s car wasn’t very big; if they found Tweek, Craig wasn’t sure how they were all going to fit. “I was trying to sneak around where mom was, too. You could have come in with me, you know!”

“Token’s the driver,” Jimmy said quickly, counting off on his fingers. “I’d be too l-loud, and Clyde’s too s…stupid.” He erupted into laughter, but nobody joined him as the car continued to build speed. Fingers dug into armrests. Clyde had his hands against his stomach, ready to puke from carsickness.

“How the fuck did you guys find me, anyway?” Craig asked, still baffled at the fact they’d come for him at all.

“Well, like I said, you were all over the news,” Token told him, eyes focused on the road. “We knew something was up, but we couldn’t risk going down the lab. The police were keeping everything on lockdown and our parents were freaked to hell and back.”

“Yeah, everyone thinks you’ve lost it!” Clyde shouted, throwing his hands over his mouth before he could spew.

Token rolled his eyes, glaring at him through the rearview mirror. “Tricia said your mom was going with the police to arrest you at the lab, so we all came up with a plan to bust you out and get to the bottom of this. She told us your mom thought you were lying about Tweek being alive, but we know you wouldn’t pull this shit for no reason.”

“You guys are too good to me,” Craig sighed, head spinning from the speed and the sudden burst of information.

“Token, we gotta head downtown,” Tricia said suddenly, watching out the side window. “Some officer was taking a phone call when I was sneaking around. I think Tweek’s there.”

“I thought Tweek was at the lab?” Jimmy asked, confused.

“Me too!” Token looked at Craig, eyes wide. “Where the hell am I driving to?”

“Downtown,” Craig confirmed. “I think Tweek got out. Long story short, he’s not looking too hot and people are losing their shit. We gotta get to him before the police do!”

“Describe _not looking too hot_ ,” Token asked, suddenly slamming on the breaks. The rest of the passengers were sent flying as he whipped the car around the best he could, heading the opposite way down the road.

“Token, watch what you’re doing!” Clyde screamed, clinging to Jimmy and Tricia for dear life.

“It’s not my fault I was told we were driving to the LAB earlier!” he yelled back, the car kicking back into gear and speeding along the bumpy road. “You could have told me downtown BEFORE I started driving!”

“All that matters is getting to Tweek, okay?” Tricia interrupted, flipping both of them off. “He’s the one in trouble.”

There was a beat of silence as the tires screeched against the pavement, the car struggling to handle the fact that Token was practically flooring the gas. “Tweek’s kinda Frankenstein right now,” Craig finally responded, his heart pounding in his throat. “Like, metal and shit.”

“You put metal in him?” Jimmy asked.

“It was the only way to save him, okay? Don’t fucking judge, I was gonna fix him up once I practiced some stuff but I didn’t get a damn chance.” Craig could see the familiar buildings starting to appear through the window. “He’s got amnesia or something so I was trying to- woah, slow down, we’re getting close. Everyone start looking!” He stopped midsentence, more important things pulling his focus.

Five sets of eyes were suddenly glued to the windows as Token pulled the car to a slower pace, crawling through downtown. “Does he still look Tweek-ish for us to recognize him?” he asked.

“Oh, you’ll know it’s him when you see him,” Craig muttered. “If you see something that looks like an abomination of science, you’ve found him.”

Everyone fell into silence as the car continued to move along, watching carefully from all directions. They passed the post office, the coffee shop and the bank, but there was nothing.

“Craig, are you sure it was downtown?” Clyde asked, his cheek pressed against the glass.

“I… I don’t know,” Craig admitted, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I don’t know how far he wandered, or if the police even came through here already or…or…” His eyes closed, slamming his forehead against the window. “I don’t fucking know, okay?” His breath fogged up the glass, exhaustion and pressure overwhelming him beyond what he could handle.

He couldn’t do this. It was all too much.

“I just want it to be over,” he muttered. He just wanted Tweek to be safe.  He wanted to bring him home to the lab and keep him happy and protected. He wanted him to have his memories back. He wanted his friends to be able to visit, for his sister to see the lab and spend time with him. He wanted his mom to be proud again instead of thinking he’d gone crazy and treating him like a child. He wanted so, so much more than he could have. The tightness in his chest only continued to grow as he attempted to block the world out around him. He didn’t want any part of it if _this_ was his fate.

“Craig! CRAIG!”

Clyde’s frantic shouting jerked him back to reality, head flying off the window as he nearly fell out of his seat. The only thing keeping him secure was the seatbelt. He scrambled to regain his consciousness as he looked out the glass, eyes searching for a sign of hope.

There on the ground, half buried in snow, lay his boyfriend’s body.

He didn’t have the time to form words as he threw off the seatbelt and opened the car door, sprinting across the road to the heap of flesh and metal curled on the sidewalk. Everything was in the same slow motion as the day he’d watched Tweek fly through the air into the coffee shop window. There was no blood, but he swore it looked all the same. Cold. Lifeless. Hopeless. Dead.

“Nononononono,” Craig sobbed, the tears freezing against his skin. He dropped to the ground, the knees of his pants soaked with slush as he scrambled closer. He couldn’t breathe. With a grunt he peeled Tweek’s body off the earth into his arms, holding him close to his chest.

The familiar warmth of his core that had comforted him during sleepless nights was completely gone. Every inch of him was as cold as the snow on the ground and the wind in the air.

“Fuck, please,” Craig practically begged, unsure who he was even talking to. Tweek? Himself? He didn’t know. He only squeezed him tighter, openly sobbing now. The charging port at the back of Tweek’s neck was screaming for power, but Craig couldn’t hear it. The only thing he had was the dull thump of something barely moving within Tweek’s chest.

His heart was still pumping.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling back with realization. “Token, TOKEN!” he screamed wildly, twisting back towards the car. His friends were all climbing out after him, looks of horror on their faces. “JUMPER CABLES!”

Everyone scrambled into action. The hood of the car was thrown up as Token went for the trunk, digging through bags of supplies and throwing things aside until he found what he was looking for. Craig practically dragged Tweek’s dead weight from the sidewalk towards the road until they were close enough for Token to hook up the cables to the battery, tossing the other ends towards Craig. Unsure what else to do, he affixed one against the charging port and the other on the metal in Tweek’s neck, praying it would conduct enough of a charge to get him going again. He stepped back, nodding violently.

“Go,” he muttered, barely able to speak. Token was already in the driver’s seat turning they key. There was the hum of the engine as the car jumped to life. Tweek twitched. “Again,” Craig breathed, the urgency in his voice increasing. “Again, again, again!”

Token clicked the car off before revving the engine for a second time.

Tweek let out a shaking gasp as his eyes flew open, body jolting with electricity.

“FUCK!” Craig shouted, dropping back to the ground, throwing the cables aside as he brought Tweek close to his chest. There were arms around his neck and blond hair in his face and he couldn’t have cared less as he cried with joy. “Tweek, oh my god…”

“Craig,” Tweek whimpered. There were tears against Craig’s shoulder as he squeezed tighter. “You mother fucker…”

Craig let out a laugh, shaking his head as the tears continued to flow. “You scared me there, honey.” He pulled back enough to kiss Tweek’s cold cheek, petting back his hair as their eyes met. He could practically feel the energy buzzing through the other boy’s body as he held him. “Why the hell are you all the way out here?”

Tweek shivered, closing his eyes. “The police were chasing me and I got lost,” he admitted. “I…I didn’t get a chance to charge.”

“I can see that,” Craig sighed, kissing him again. He couldn’t help it. His arms were around Tweek again as he squeezed him tight. God, he was alive and somewhat warmer than before. _Alive_.

“Tweek, dude, you’re okay!” Clyde’s voice cried, the remaining boys and Tricia gathering closer around them. “I mean, not really, you’re kinda all fucked u—OW!” He pulled away, Jimmy having smacked him with his crutch before he could continue.

“Wait, wait,” Craig urged, throwing his arm out to keep them from coming closer. “Don’t overwhelm him. Amnesia, remember? I don’t know if he knows who you are.” Everyone took a step back as Craig’s looked back at Tweek. The blonde’s eyes widened in wonder as he glanced at the people around him, expression suddenly shifting from confusion to delight.

“PICTURE BOYS!” Tweek shrieked in excitement, scrambling from Craig’s hold to throw his arms around them all at once. He couldn’t remember their names, but he’d seen them in the photo albums. Deep in his chest, he knew they were friends. He pulled back only to throw his arms around Tricia next. “And…and…Ruby!” It had to be her. She had the hair and the freckles from the little girl in the pictures.

“Picture boys?” Jimmy muttered, raising his eyebrows. “That’s a n-new one.”

“It’s a long story,” Craig said, still overwhelmed with emotions as he watched Tweek bounce around excitedly. “Come on, let’s get him back to the lab before-”

He paused, chest seizing with fear as he could hear sirens approaching in the distance.

“FUCK! WE GOT TROUBLE!” Clyde screamed, practically dragging Jimmy back into the car with him. Tricia leapt in behind them, leaving Craig and Tweek to squeeze into the passenger seat as Token scrambled back to the driver’s side. Just like before he slammed on the gas, shooting them forward at an alarming rate.

Craig clung to Tweek as he practically held him on his lap, letting out a shout of fear as Token took a sharp turn.

“Okay, NOW are we going to the lab?!” Token asked, his foot all the way against the floor.

“YES!” the entire car chorused. Clyde threw his hands over his mouth again, trying not to heave.

“If you spew in my car like you did last spring I’m gonna kick your ass!” Token shouted as he glanced in the rearview mirror, trying to spot where the sirens were coming from. The flashing lights were just coming over the hill now. “God dammit…”

“What if they start to shoot at us?” Clyde asked anyway. “They’re gonna shoot the tires, you know, they do that in the movies!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time today,” Tweek uttered, still shivering violently.

“What?!” Craig asked.

“The fucker at the lab shot at me,” he repeated.

Craig squeezed Tweek tighter, eyes closing tightly. “It’s almost over,” he whispered to himself. “Almost over, almost over…” The charging port was screaming again, glowing an angry red. “Ugh!”

Tricia began to look around the car. “The fuck is that beeping?”

“Tweek’s running out of battery,” Craig said, frustration in his voice. He’d hoped the jumpstart would last them longer. “We gotta hurry to the lab and plug him in or else he’s gonna go cold again!”

Tweek let out a shriek of fear, squirming. “NONONONONO,” he cried, “FIX IT RIGHT NOW! FIX IT _RIGHT NOW!”_ His bad arm was twitching wildly, nearly smacking Token before his boyfriend grabbed it and pinned it against his side.

Craig’s eyes searched the cabin frantically despite the harsh jostling, settling on Clyde’s phone sitting in the cup holder. It was plugged into the cigarette lighter by a charging cord. “I’ll buy you a new one,” he muttered before ripping the cord from the port and the phone. He shoved one end into his mouth and began to chew furiously.

“The fuck are you doing?!” Clyde shouted, face pale from fear and carsickness.

“Trying to break the rubber,” Craig slurred, teeth grinding against it until he felt it give way. He quickly peeled it back to expose the wiring, nails scrambling to pull them apart. “Tweek, bend forward!”

“Jimmy, don’t you dare make a fucking joke,” Token scolded the moment he caught sight of the boy’s mouth opening in the rearview mirror.

Tweek’s head dropped against the dashboard anyway, bending awkwardly so he was closer to the lighter port. Suddenly Craig’s fingers were against his neck, attempting to jam the wires in just enough to get somewhat of a charge flowing.

“Token,” Clyde squeaked, peering out the back window. “Token, Token, TOKEN!” The police were gaining on them.

“DO YOU NOT THINK I FUCKING _SEE_?” Token shouted back, the car taking another sharp turn. Tweek’s forehead slammed against the dashboard as he attempted to remain still, one of Jimmy’s crutches laying against the floor of the car shifting enough to smack Clyde in the leg.

Tricia shrieked, grabbing onto Jimmy’s arm. “Faster!”

“I’m TRYING!”

There was another sharp turn that sent them against the left side of the car just as Tweek emitted a beep, the charging port light turning orange. “Thank fuck!” Craig muttered, holding his fingertips against the port in an attempt to keep the loose wires from falling out. “He’s stable!”

The other passengers relaxed, but not by much. The sirens were getting louder.

“I’m gonna take a different road,” Token said quickly, glancing in the rearview again. “I’ll try to throw them off!”

“What’s the point, they know we’re going to the-” Craig didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as he was thrown by another turn. He only pressed harder against the charging port, afraid to lose the connection.

“FUCKING WARN US NEXT TIME!” Clyde screamed for the millionth time. “FUCKING WARN ME!”

Craig ignored him, leaning forward enough that he could see Tweek’s face. His eyes were scrunched tightly, mouth drawn into a thin, worried line. “Tweek, you good?”

“Trying,” Tweek whimpered, giving a shiver. “The charging feels like shit and it’s loud and I’m _scared._ ”

“Welcome to the club,” Craig muttered, kissing somewhere in his mass of fluffy hair before sitting back up just in time to get slammed against the side of the car again, head bumping against the window.

“WHAT DID I SAY?!”

“Clyde, shut the FUCK up,” Token demanded. The sirens were further away now. His plan to throw them off had worked. “We’re almost there, okay?”

 Wait, wait, wait…w-what’s the plan once we p…pull up?” Jimmy diverted his arms around Tricia.

Craig closed his eyes tightly, trying not to wince at the pain. “Get Tweek inside and lock the fucking door, I guess?”

“Then what?”

Fuck. “I dunno, just…buy time?” His hand rubbed at his head. “Buy time to come up with _another_ plan.”

“Brilliant,” Token muttered, the car finally slowing down as it climbed the hill to the lab driveway. “So we’re going into this completely blind?”

“You bet,” Craig muttered as the car finally stopped, yanking out Tweek’s makeshift cord and dragging him out of the car. Everyone scrambled with their seatbelts as the sirens began to grow louder again, sprinting up the drive and into the lab. As soon as they were all in, Craig flipped on the security system and locked the gate.

“What the hell happened here?” Tricia asked, eyes following the trail of blood down the hallway.

“Me,” Tweek admitted, rushing past it. He was still shivering violently as he stumbled down the hall towards the apartment. “Cord…cord…”

The sirens were so loud.

Craig threw open the door to the apartment and let everyone rush inside, slamming and locking the door behind them. Tweek was already on the couch, Jimmy helping him get the cord into the wall.

Click. Beep.

Craig let out a sigh of relief, watching as Tweek curled into the mass of blankets he’d left there earlier that morning. “Warm up, you’re good now,” he said. Empty promises. There was no way Tweek was going to be safe for very long.

“Now what?” Clyde asked, looking around the messy apartment. “They’re gonna be in here any minute.”

Craig’s fingers tapped at his mouth in thought, trying to figure out what to do. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t think…

“We could hide him?”

“No, that’s stupid! They’ll arrest us for sure!”

Craig closed his eyes in frustration, beginning to pace the room as he drowned out his friend’s arguing. They kept trying to get his attention, but he didn’t dare engage. His feet took him through the living room to the kitchen, then to the bedroom, peering inside. He didn’t remember leaving his notebook on the bed.

He slowly turned around to find the bathroom door open, the mirror exposed.

Oh. Fuck.

“I…I don’t know,” Craig said loudly, turning back. His voice was trembling as he tried his best to pretend he wasn’t aware of what Tweek had done. If he’d seen…

“So we bust you outta jail and all you got to say is ‘I don’t know’, huh?” Tricia scolded from across the apartment, narrowing her eyes before flipping him off. “Come on, smartass, think!”

“Shut your goddamn mouth and maybe I can,” Craig hissed, too overwhelmed to properly bite back. His hands were in his hair as he moved to sit down on the couch beside Tweek. It was fine, it was fine… “Maybe we can-”

Too late.

The door suddenly flew open, every single person in the room jumping at the crash. Heads turned to find Yates in the doorframe, gun in his hand, eyes wild. “All of you, fucking _freeze_ ,” he demanded, raising it.

Nobody dared to even breathe.

“I am sick and tired of chasing you all around town,” Yates continued, his eye meeting Craig’s as the boy’s arms curled around his boyfriend, holding him protectively close. “I’m sick and tired of this _FUCKING_ case!”

“Don’t touch Tweek,” Craig hissed, his friend’s not even daring to glance his way. “Please, _please,_ don’t hurt him.” He could hear Tweek’s shaking breath and the pounding of his heart. Yates stepped closer as his mother and at least five more officers hurried in the doorway. Laura pushed her way past them, eyes wide with shock.

“Craig, honey, is that-”

“Tweek,” Craig breathed, giving a tighter squeeze. “I told you, I wasn’t fucking lying.” Tweek let out another shudder, his fingers moving to grip at Craig’s shoulders.

“Mrs. Tucker,” Clyde begged, “don’t tell my dad about this, seriously, if I go to jail he’s gonna be so pissed at me- It was Tricia’s idea!”

“DON’T PUT IT ALL ON ME!” the girl shrieked, glaring at him.

Yates just stared for another moment, gun still cocked. “Tweek, is that really you?” he asked calmly, raising an eyebrow. The officers behind him watched silently.

Craig’s eyes went from Tweek to Yates to Tweek again. If his boyfriend had seen what he thought he did, he knew exactly what was going through his mind. “Tweek,” he whispered, panic rising. “It’s you, remember? It’s you. Remember the pictures? Remember all those things you told me? All you.”

Tweek blinked quietly, mouth falling into a frown. He knew what he’d seen. The pictures in the photo album had been a lie; the creature in the mirror couldn’t be the same boy. His fingers twitched as his hands went from Craig’s shoulders down to his hospital gown, gripping tightly in an attempt to comfort himself.

No, it couldn’t be a lie.

The boys in the photos had come for him because they were his friends. Craig had done all he could to keep him safe, even if it had scared him or made him upset. He’d baked the cupcakes and sang and held the guinea pigs and danced along the halls. He’d remembered sights and smells and feelings he never imagined feeling again.

He widened his eyes as he look at Yates. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I am Tweek.”

Craig let out a breath, hugging him tighter.

Yates just continued to frown, slowly lowering the gun. “So he really wasn’t lying, huh?”

Craig glared at him, still holding onto his boyfriend. “I fucking _told_ you. You want proof? _I_ did this for him. _I_ saved him. Look on the security footage if you don’t believe me- I’ve been taking care of him all week.”

“We could confiscate the tapes as evidence,” one officer said. “He’s got a decent case.”

Yates narrowed his eyes. “Sure, we’ve got evidence, but this isn’t going to blow over well.”

“What do you mean?” Craig asked, confused. “I’m innocent, right?”

Yates shook his head. “You may have saved him, but you still stole a body and kept your intentions hidden. The hell am I supposed to tell the town?” he asked, clearly just as frustrated. “I only did something about this because they were the ones getting on my ass about arresting you. Now what am I supposed to do? People saw him and ran the other direction in a panic. I can’t just drop this, and you know that.”

Craig bit at his lip, unsure how to respond.

“A cover up,” Tweek whispered, glancing up.

“A what?” Yates asked.

“A cover up,” Craig echoed, a bit more hope in his voice. “Sargent Yates, sir, we can cover this up!”

A few of the officers shifted awkwardly, glancing at their chief.  Yates narrowed his eyes, but his gun stayed lowered. “You expect _me_ to choose covering this mess up over dealing with the aftermath of a complicated case?”

Craig nodded violently, the rest of his friends following suit.

The chief sighed, gun finally going back in the holster. “You’re speaking my language. What do you have in mind, Tucker? This better be worth my while.”

“Let me and Tweek live in peace,” Craig said, suddenly filled with energy. His words came quickly. “Tell the town you found the body-”

“Untouched, so it’s just a misdemeanor,” Token added.

“Untouched,” Craig concurred, nodding. “You can pretend you sent me to jail and me and Tweek will just hide out here for…I don’t know, as long as you say, until everything blows over. Years even, I don’t care! He needs me, and… and I need him.”

“Yeah,” Tricia piped up, stepping forward. “He won’t even have to leave the lab. We’ll bring him supplies so nobody even suspects a thing.”

“We’ll visit to keep him company,” Clyde added.

“Nobody will know about Tweek e-except for u…us,” Jimmy urged.

There was silence as they all thought about it, the idea seeming like a better and better idea. “What about the Tweaks?” Laura said suddenly, looking around the room. “They’re going to want the body.”

Another silence. “The Tweaks will have to comply,” Yates sighed. “We’ll have to tell them the truth and hope they’ll stay quiet.”

“If they wanna see Tweek _alive,_ they will,” Craig hissed. “We’re going to make this happen.”

“I get to see my parents?” Tweek asked, eyes wide.

“I guess so,” Yates told him, pressing a hand against his face. “What about the people who saw him in the street?”

Craig rolled his eyes. “I dunno, a gas leak. Hallucinations. Aliens. Weird shit happens in this town all the time, I’m sure they’ll believe an excuse!”

Yates closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “You’re lucky, Tucker, that my retirement is next month or I wouldn’t let this one slide. It’s too much damn paperwork and too much media in this town if the truth gets out. I don’t wanna be the chief in change when shit like that hit the fan.” His eyes opened. “All of you need to swear you’ll keep your mouths shut about this. If there’s so much as a peep, my retirement check will be out the window at best and my ass in jail alongside you at _worst._ Is that clear?”

Craig couldn’t help the grin of relief creeping onto his face, pulling Tweek close to his chest. “Is that okay with you?” he asked softly. “We’d both be trapped here, but it’s the better option. I know you wanted to get out into the world, but…”

“...It’s a risk,” Tweek finished, sighing. “It’s for the best this way. And besides, it’s not like I’ll be alone.” The boy pulled back, giving Craig a soft smile, biting his tongue just as sweetly as he always did. Sure, his face was full of metal, and sure there was a charging cord in his neck, but he was still _his_ Tweek. “I’ll have you.”

“You’ll have all of us,” Tricia corrected, stepping closer. The next thing they knew, everyone’s arms were around them, pulling them close into a protective hug. Things could be okay. Just like Tweek, change didn’t have to be a bad thing.

It was all Craig had ever wanted.


	13. EPILOGUE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanna cry like I did writing this part, listen to THIS to set the mood:   
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OGe-WXhbmBg

_October 31st_

_Today’s going to be a really great day, I think._

Craig set the blue notebook down on the counter, too preoccupied to finish his entry. It was Halloween, and Tweek had just set out a fresh batch of cupcakes onto the counter to cool. As his hand reached playfully for one, he was met by a quick swat against his arm.

“Don’t you dare,” Tweek teased, narrowing his eyes. The fingers on his left hand curled expertly against the warm tin, the wiring finally repaired. Craig’s experimental skin growth research had been attached to a small part in his forearm; it was discolored, but the graft was holding up. “That’s for _later_.”

Craig giggled, rolling his eyes. “Fine, fine… here, you wanna see my costume for when the guys are coming over?”

“Oh?”

Craig darted for the couch, grabbing the ugly blanket that had once hung over the mirror. It had been modified with eye holes, poorly trimmed with dull scissors. He threw it over his body, blue eyes peering out at Tweek. “What do you think?”

“Ghost?” Tweek asked curiously.

“Uh-huh. I mean, it’s pretty shitty, but it’s all we got around here. I wasn’t about to ask Rubes to get me a costume if we aren’t even going out.” He slid it off his body, letting it fall to the floor. “What about you?”

“Do I really need one, looking like this?” Tweek asked. His expression was condescending, but his tone was playful enough for Craig to know he was only kidding around. “When are they coming?”

Craig glanced down at his new phone, opening his messages. “Uhhh…mom says in a few minutes. Yates is coming too.”

Tweek raised an eyebrow as he poked at his cupcakes, almost methodically. “Is he? He’s been around a lot the last few days.”

“I guess he feels responsible,” Craig guessed, flopping onto the couch, legs kicking up against the cushions. “I mean, he is hiding us.” Yates had promised that even after his retirement, he’d help to keep the boys a secret. If Craig could perfect his genetic engineering and complete the work Mephesto had set out to do, maybe he could fix Tweek enough for them to start a new life. For now, though, Mephesto’s Laboratory was their home.

There was a sudden knock on the door that left Craig leaping towards the door of the apartment, leaving Tweek to finish his cupcakes. He rushed to check the security footage to find Yates, his mother, Tricia and his friends all waiting for them. Every single one was in costume. As soon as he threw open the door, there was a loud chorus of “TRICK OR TREAT”, sending him into a fit of laughter.

“We brought you some shitty candy,” Token said, tossing a bag of candy corn at Craig. “We figured if you can’t go out, we’ll bring the party to you.”

Craig led them back into the apartment. To his surprise, the cupcakes were already frosted and sitting on the counter, decorated with rainbow sprinkles and chocolate chips. He dropped the candy corn onto the counter, the rest of the group filing in behind him.

“ _Heyyyyy_ , Tweek, it’s ya picture boys,” Clyde laughed, snatching a cupcake off the counter and popping it into his mouth.

Tweek stared for a moment before smiling. “Clyde,” he said softly before going back to his work. The more the boys had come to visit, the more familiar he’d become with them. Sometimes there were fleeting memories, but the new memories they were building were as sweet as the one’s he’d built with Craig.

Yates smirked, plopping a hand on Tweek’s head and ruffling his hair. “How’s that arm?”

“Better,” Tweek said, lifting his hand and wiggling his fingers. “The skin looks nice, I think. Craig said if it adjusts well, we might try my face next.”

“That’s a step in the right direction,” the chief said before pulling his phone from his pocket. “Here, I got something to show you two.”

Craig scurried closer, peering over Yates’ shoulder as he and Tweek crowded closer. It was a new article published the day before, a video file embedded. “ _Mad scientist behind bars_ ,” Craig read, raising an eyebrow.

“Local criminal Craig Tucker was apprehended by South Park police on October 22nd after a successful raid on Mephesto Laboratories,” Yates read, scrolling up. “Earlier this month, Tucker was spotted stealing the corpse of Tweek Tweak from his parent’s coffee shop after a truck struck and killed him in the street outside. His body was discovered within the lab, appearing untouched as confirmed by the autopsy. Tucker will serve a year on terms of a misdemeanor, and the body has been returned to the Tweak family for burial.”

Craig let out a laugh. The media was eating it up. Tweek’s parents were perfectly aware that the coffin at Tweek’s funeral service just a week before had been empty. They’d hugged a very alive body.

“What about the video?” Tweek asked, unable to help reaching out his left hand. The metal tapped uselessly against the screen.

“Right hand, honey,” Craig reminded.

Tweek let out a frustrated sigh, but complied anyway. The clip loaded to an interview, his parents standing outside of the coffee shop.

“We feel so blessed to have our son returned to us,” Helen said, her eyes darting left in lie. She had a sympathetic smile on her face, but Craig could tell it was forced. “We’re very thankful that the rumors were false. His corpse was not mutilated in any form- apart from being dead, I mean! He was completely unharmed.”

“We hold no ill will towards Craig,” Richard said, a bit more convincing. “He’ll always be our almost-son-in-law. We hope after his sentence he’ll be able to get the help he needs for his…mental condition… and rejoin society just fine.”

“Mental condition?” Craig muttered, grimacing.

Laura shook her head, having moved beside him. “That was Yates’ idea. There had to be an explanation of sorts, and it was most believable. You’re going to jail but there’s ‘rehab’ or something, too.”

“Whatever keeps me here,” Craig said, begrudgingly accepting it. “At least things are blowing over well. Are the Tweak’s coming over?”

“A bit later,” Yates said, watching as Tweek’s face lit up. “They were hesitant about drawing attention by coming to the lab, but since all of us are here, they don’t mind so much. If anyone asks, we were coming to tidy up. I’m pulling some strings so that legally, the lab looks like it’s going to Laura in Craig’s absence.”

Craig nodded, grabbing for his ‘costume’ off the floor. He pulled it over his head, the sheet covering the smile on his face. Tweek tiptoed closer, one arm wrapping around his waist as they stood side by side. Jimmy was playing music from his phone and Clyde was dancing around the room, trying to get Token to join in. Tricia had her mother by the hand, dragging her into the fun.

“I love you, Craig,” Tweek whispered softly, pressing a kiss against the fabric. Craig could feel the warmth creeping into his chest. Exactly two weeks before, he’d dreaded coming to the lab. In the wake of Mephesto’s passing, he’d been so unsure if things would be okay. As he looked around the room, he knew he could have never guessed that this would be the outcome. He was surrounded by friends and family and, most importantly, his boyfriend. Sure, Tweek was a little different, and there were parts of him he could never get back, but it was Tweek all the same. He could cope with a little loss if it meant a little gain in the process.

“I love you too, Tweek,” he whispered back.

_October 31st_

_Today is going to be a really great day, I think. Maybe even the best day of my life._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for coming on this journey with me.


End file.
